


Where The Line Bends

by ByTheDawn



Series: Multi-Chaptered Works [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, First Time, Multi, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina hates her life as Queen. It's been a few months now, and living in the palace has only become more of a hell for her. She hates her nights with Leopold, her days with Snow, and the impossible loneliness that is wearing her down. When her mother comes to visit, she is overjoyed with the promise of comfort, however, her mother's comfort is never free of a price. It's worth it, though, because it's a price she can pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Black Queen, with honerable mentions of Stable Queen, Regina's sexual relationship with King Leopold, and Snow Queen. Written to Radical Face's 'The Crooked Kind'.

Knuckles rapped softly on the wood of the solid oak door that gave entrance to the main guest chambers of the royal palace. Regina Mills, Queen, step-mother, and daughter, glanced around her to see if she was still undisturbed as she waited shakily for a response she knew would be forthcoming any moment now. Surely, her mother was expecting her?

She had arrived in the morning from home—the place Regina longed for despite its obvious shortcomings—and had greeted her daughter with air kisses on her cheek, denying her the hug Regina had been craving. She had missed her mother so much that just laying eyes on her in her elaborate travelling dress had brought tears to her eyes. Her mother; someone from home… someone not part of this hell. Cora had squinted at the sight of threatening tears, however, and she had swallowed them, straightening up like the Queen she pretended to be was supposed to do. She stood next to her husband, an arm over Snow’s shoulders, and let Leopold invite her mother inside for refreshments.

She had followed meekly, trying to reel in her tumbling thoughts and warring emotions. When Snow White had innocently asked her if she was alright, Regina had realized that she was showing her inner struggle far too much, and had—again—reeled herself in like a good Queen—a good daughter—was supposed to do, and as a reward, Cora had smiled at her during dinner later that day. 

Now, it was well after midnight and while Regina had expected her mother to visit her once all of them were relieved of their duties as host and guest, she had not. Instead, she had retired to her rooms and had remained there, locked away behind the heavy door while Regina became more and more desperate to feel her mother’s arms around her; to find quiet comfort from someone she knew loved her—after all, her mother had done everything she could to create a good life for Regina. She knew Cora wanted this life for her, that being Queen was Cora’s dream and Regina was trying. She would always try for her mother, despite everything.

Short months had passed since Daniel’s death at the hands of her mother’s cruel touch. The loss burned inside of her chest every day, and caused her to resent her lot in life even more than she had already done, being locked away in this castle with Snow White and King Leopold—whom she despised. Yet, she reminded herself every single day that it was for her own good, that she had everything her heart should have desired—she was Queen now! It should be enough.

Only it wasn’t.

She hated the nights when King Leopold summoned her to his bedchambers like the common whores she wished he would indulge in to satisfy his desires. He never did, though—Leopold was a noble man, an old-fashioned man, and he had intercourse only with his wife, whom he had summoned by a chambermaid or guard whenever his needs arose. It nauseated Regina… but she did it anyway, because her mother desired it of her.

She should hate her mother for killing Daniel, but really, she had left her mother no other choice. Once Snow White knew about their illicit affair, it was only a matter of time before others knew as well. Or—worse—she would have actually attempted to run away with him, and shamed her family. She had been young and stupid, and her mother had saved her from a fate far worse than this. She should be grateful to Cora, because at least her mother cared—unlike Leopold and Snow who both treated her like property, abide in entirely different ways. A part of her still resented her mother, though; a part of her that she quenched now, in favour of comfort. 

She rapped her knuckles on the wood again, and prayed Cora was not already asleep. She wouldn’t make it through the night without satisfying this need inside of her; the need for human contact. Whatever Cora had done to her, at least she had always considered her a human being, not moving furniture to be used and then cast aside like the White family.

This time, she heard a call to enter, and she opened the door quickly, slipping inside the darkened room before anyone could happen upon her, and shutting the door behind her. Regina sighed, and took a deep gulp of air to calm her heart. The room smelled vaguely of her mother’s scent, and her heart fluttered nervously—excitedly. She turned, back pressed against the wood, and let her eyes adjust to the room lit only by moonlight. 

“Regina, darling, is that you?” Her mother asked softly, and Regina’s eyes were drawn to the bed where a figure now stirred. She sobbed with joy.

“Mother, please. I-I have missed you… I couldn’t sleep without a hug. May I please have a hug before I turn in for the night?” She asked, and felt like a little girl again, and not at all like the Queen she was supposed to be. She only hoped her mother would allow her the transgression now there was no one else to bear witness. The answer took a moment, but then covers were lifted on the large bed, and Cora’s voice sounded reassuringly through the room.

“Of course, dear. Come. I have missed you, too.”

Regina hurried across the room and smiled once she got close enough to distinguish her mother’s nightgown-clad feature as she held up the blankets, inviting Regina under them with her. Quickly, Regina shrugged off her robe and stepped out of her slippers before sliding into bed, her back to Cora, who enveloped her with a warm arm as she pulled the blankets over them both, settling into her back. They had slept together like this on rare and blissful occasions when Regina was a child, and it was so reassuring to be allowed that dream of childhood now she was older. A weight fell off of her shoulders.

Cora pressed a soft kiss in her hair, and Regina sighed, letting her eyes drift shut. She had missed being enveloped in her mother’s scent, in her warmth, in the loving embrace of the one person who always wanted the best for her.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Cora cooed softly, and Regina was reminded of all the good times in her childhood, the times when she had pleased her mother by following her lessons, and the times when she had even anticipated her mother’s commands. She had excelled in many things throughout her childhood, and sometimes it had been enough to be rewarded with kindness and love. ‘Sweetheart’ made her heart flutter.

Regina knew what the right answer was to her mother’s question. She was supposed to say she was well, that she enjoyed her life, that she enjoyed caring for Snow White… but that was all a lie. She hated it here, she hated her life, and she hated Snow White. A sob tore through her system and Cora’s hold on her intensified, murmuring softly in her ear that it was alright, that mother had her. And so Regina gave in and sobbed into the pillow below her, relishing in the hand that slowly traced her arm and side. The warmth of her mother’s body against her was comforting in such a way that her small melt-down only lasted a few minutes before she was simply basking in this rare opportunity for comfort.

“Feeling better?” Cora asked, and Regina nodded. A small press of nails on her skin as a reprimand.

“Yes, mother. I’m sorry.” Regina quickly amended, and the nails softened to light touches upon her bare skin that left goose bumps in their wake.

“It’s alright, Regina, truly. I was away for a long time and I know you are not happy here.” Cora stated matter-of-factly, and Regina turned around in her embrace so she could look up at her mother. 

“You do?” She asked with a small voice, and Cora smiled sweetly. Her hand came up to brush Regina’s cheek, and Regina leaned into the touch. Breath ghosted lightly over her jaw, and Regina felt sheltered in the dark cocoon her mother created for her. Despite her mother’s outbursts, Regina knew she loved her—she had to love her, Regina was her daughter, and she was doing everything she could to please her mother. Softly spoken but perfectly articulated words washed over her and shook her out of her reverie. 

“Of course. I know Leopold and while he is a good enough King, he is still a man, and men take what they want, don’t they?” Cora asked, and the back of her hand slowly dragged down from Regina’s cheek to the valley between her breasts and then further down over her belly. Regina looked away—not because of her mother’s touch, but of what she was referring to. Cora’s hand slipped up again to tilt her daughter’s head towards her. Reluctantly, Regina met her eyes.

“You are giving it to him, though, Regina?” Cora asked sternly, and Regina’s heart leaped because she could truthfully please her mother.

“Yes, of course.” She answered quickly. “I have never denied him any of his desires.” 

Cora’s smile was like a breath of fresh air, and she was even happier when her mother leaned forward to kiss her cheek gently, lingering for a moment that made Regina sigh. It was so good to have her mother’s acceptance.

“I am proud of you. You have done well.” Cora whispered against her skin, and Regina automatically flung her arms around her mother’s neck, squeezing her closer to her as she revelled in the way Cora indulged her, and leaned in for a hug that had Regina’s eyes fall shut. 

“Thank you, mother.” She breathed, her voice elated and tearful. 

“You are welcome, my child.” Cora answered her as she drew up, settling next to her again, her head propped up on her hand as her elbow pressed into the pillow. Regina settled on her back, head tilted towards her mother, whose hand was tracing patters on her daughter’s belly like she used to do when Regina was much younger.

“Regina, tell me this truthfully, please; and know that I will know if you are lying.” Cora’s voice was clear but not threatening, and Regina waited wide-eyed for the question, verbally confirming she would speak the truth.

“What the King shares with you in the royal bedchambers… has it even brought you true pleasure?” She asked, and Regina blushed, unable to look at her mother as she considered the question.

“There have been times when it did not hurt?” She tried, and Cora examined her features as if she was trying to gauge if Regina was being coy on purpose or if she truly did not understand the scope of her mother’s question.

“When a man and a woman lie together, they use their bodies to give each other pleasure.” Cora then explained, and Regina forced herself to listen, trying to think of Daniel, not Leopold. “I am sure the King gets his pleasure with you, but I had hoped he would invest in providing that pleasure for you as well.”

Regina shook her head. No, once Leopold had reached his… pleasure, he was generally done with her. That was the time she left the bed to clean herself thoroughly and crawl into her own bed to cry herself to sleep. No, pleasure was surely not part of their couplings—not for her. Cora sighed at her reaction. 

“Well then, that is not acceptable, and I will talk to him about this.” Cora decided briskly, and Regina shot up in the bed, the blankets falling from her.

“No, mother, please don’t! It’s alright, really. Please do not tell the King I am not happy in our marriage bed. I could not bear the shame.” She pleaded, but Cora shut her up with a stern look Regina knew better than to cross. 

“Don’t be such a child, Regina. You are a woman now—a wife—and it is Leopold’s duty as your husband to make you happy. Now lie back down or leave my bed. It is chilly in this palace of yours and I grow tired of your antics.” Cora stated curtly, and Regina realized there was nothing she could do. She laid back down on her back, staring up at the canopy of the bed, and worried about her future life with her husband while Cora settled the blankets over them again.

“Oh now, you had best remove that look from your pretty features. Truly, Regina, you know I always have your best interest at heart, and while my methods may be somewhat extreme at times, I am not a monster out for your destruction. I am your mother and I love you. If you grow to enjoy your nights with your husband, would that not be better than what you have with him now?” She asked, and Regina had to admit it would be.

“How will I know… what… what it feels like?” She asked obliviously innocently, and the annoyance melted off of her mother’s features. The hand that had been tickling her stomach before, returned and purposefully applied pressure to her skin through the nearly translucent material of her nightgown.

“Well, I will show you, of course.” Cora said simply, and Regina’s eyes went wide.

“But you’re… you said that this pleasure was to be had between a man and a woman. Would it not be… inappropriate for… to…” she trailed off, unable to formulate a sentence that did justice to her inner turmoil. On the one hand, she did trust her mother’s judgement, but like Daniel’s death, this situation felt wrong, and Regina was uncomfortable.

“Shush, my child. It would not be inappropriate at all. It is a mother’s job to prepare her child for marriage, and I seem to have neglected my duties. It would merely be a way to teach you, and you can always see it as an extension of my love for you, if that settles your worried mind?” Cora cooed, and Regina smiled brightly up at her at the mention of the word ‘love’. She thought it over a few more seconds, and realized that—yes—this sounded quite logical. She nodded, then vocalized her consent. 

“Alright, mother. Yes. Yes, please show me how the coupling should make me feel.” She breathed, and her heart leapt at the full smile that her mother graced her with as a reply. 

For a second, the fingers on her belly pressed harder against her flesh, and Regina wondered timidly if her mother had, perhaps, thought about this before now—about this lesson. She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment—long enough to be surprised by the breath that ghosted over her lips and the immediate press against them that followed. The fingers on her belly flattened out until Cora could keep her equilibrium with that hand as she leaned into her daughter’s lips. 

They had kissed on the lips before—Cora was her mother, after all—but it was different now Regina was aware of the scope of the experiences shared by people in the bedroom. She had been the subject of Leopold’s kisses, and she had relished Daniel’s. She understood kissing now, and Cora’s intentions were not to kiss her child; she was kissing… whomever Regina was supposed to be in this lesson. Her lover, perhaps, or simply her student. Her mother’s lips just pressed, gently, and let Regina adjust to the feel of them. They were soft, and warm, and not unpleasant. There was no stubble, no coarse hairs of a beard. Her mother’s skin was smooth and soft, and if she could forget that the lips belonged to her mother, she could find them enjoyable. On their own accord, her fingers flexed and grabbed the bedding under her, knowing instinctively her mother would not appreciate the touch upon her flesh.

Cora’s press became a little harder before pulling away to the point where their lips were barely touching. Then, they pressed back down again and slid over hers easily. With her eyes closed, Regina could imagine the lips belonged to someone else—anyone else—and she followed her instincts. On the next pass of lips, she parted hers, and felt—more than heard—her mother hum against them. The pass after, a wet tongue flicked against her lips, and she parted them willingly. Once more, and their tongues connected in the space between their mouths. Regina sighed despite the small knot in her stomach; Cora was a good kisser—in as far as she could judge, anyway. The soft strokes made Regina’s lips tingle, and before long, they made her entire body tingle. Carefully—not sure if she was supposed to initiate anything or just lie back and wait—she reached up with her hand and cupped her mother’s cheek. When she wasn’t rebuffed, she took a more solid hold, sliding her hand to Cora’s neck and pulling her closer. 

Her stomach fluttered when Cora’s tongue pressed harder against hers in reaction, and Cora’s hand on her belly morphed into a claw, nails digging lightly into her skin. In a subconscious reaction of her body, Regina moaned and lapped up with her tongue as she lost herself in the kiss. Slowly, the knot in her stomach unknotted, and Regina allowed herself to dwell in the increasingly intimate touches of her mother. Cora would want her to—that was the point of the lesson, after all—so why not? Why not enjoy being loved? Had she not suffered enough at the hands of her mother? At the hands of her husband? Why not indulge her own needs? Her mother had told her this was alright, that it was a mother’s duty to show her daughter what love between a man and woman should feel like, and Cora had never given her a reason to mistrust her—fear her, perhaps, but Regina knew her mother always had her best interest at heart.

When Cora’s fingers relaxed on her belly, and slowly begun to slide up, Regina pushed up into the touch, letting her mother know she was alright, that she was ready. The touch solidified, catching on the fabric of her thin nightgown as fingertips reached the swell of her breast. Her breath hitched, and Cora pulled back a little, staring down at her daughter with hooded eyes as she allowed her hand to palm Regina’s breast fully. Regina bit her lip, letting the eyes that had fluttered open, close again as a spike of arousal shot down her spine. 

“So sensitive…” Cora mused, and Regina felt herself blush. She turned her head away from her mother in shame, hand dropping to her side, but her mother’s hand on her breast rushed up to capture her jaw lightly and force dark eyes back upon her.

“No, no, my sweet. None of that. A woman should be in control of her sexuality. She should relish it, revel in it. It is your greatest power Regina—especially while your stomach is still flat, your breasts still firm and your face still pretty. Use what you have been given to your advantage; these gifts will fade soon enough. Use it now to woe your husband in such a way he will give you everything you want if only you will join him in the bedroom. Use it now to get to his secrets and weaknesses—because once your beauty fades, so will your hold over him.” Cora prophesized, and Regina felt her face contort in confusion. Why would she want this? Why would she need to have a hold over Leopold? Judging by her next words, Cora read her mind easily. As her hand gently stroked Regina’s cheek, she continued her explanation.

“There is danger in being powerless, Regina. Leopold does not love you—he loved Eva far too much to feel that way about you. He will continue to use you for his own gain and pleasure if you will not show him that he should pay dearly for the privilege. That is why we are doing this; I am trying to teach you that he does not respect you, and he should. You are his wife. He must pleasure you—if he will not even do that, what else will he deny you? Do you understand, Regina. This is important, so only say yes if you mean it.” Cora spoke, her voice strict but still soft and comforting in the darkness. 

Regina took a few seconds to mull over the words, trying to come to grips with them. She did understand, she felt. Her mother was telling her to become an active participant in this marriage, to do to Leopold what Cora had done to her husband; learn his deepest, darkest, secrets and desires and use them to overtake him. It did not sound like an experience she would enjoy, and she could not see a proud man like Leopold breaking to her power over him—mostly because she couldn’t imagine having power over him at all—but her mother was trying to teach her a way in which this marriage did not have to be a punishment, nor a prison, and that was such a hopeful thought that she latched on to it with gratitude.

“I understand.” She answered, and Cora smiled.

“Good. Now, let us resume our lesson. Tell me, were you enjoying yourself so far? And remember, own your sexuality. Do not let shame halt your words or taint your reaction.” Cora warned.

“Yes, mother. I enjoyed our kiss, and the way you touched me.” Regina answered honestly. A split second debate with herself and then she quickly added another confession. “When you kissed me, I wanted you to touch me more.”

Cora laughed softly, easily capturing her cheek and leaning in for a new kiss. She pressed their lips together a moment and then whispered against them lightly.

“Then I shall, Regina. Then I shall.” She promised, and the hand returned to her stomach, but only for an initiatory moment. Soon, the hand slid up again and gently shifted in place over her breast, again producing a spike of arousal that had Regina shiver. She quickly brought her own hand up again, brushing aside her mother’s long locks of hair to find her neck and bring her down onto her lips. This time, Regina parted hers before Cora had even teased them with her tongue, and she was rewarded by a soft but sharp exhale of breath as Cora pressed her tongue firmly between them. Regina rose to the invitation easily. The older woman applied pressure to the soft flesh of Regina’s breast, and in response, Regina pulled her mother down harder, getting lost in sensation as she forgot who was being so intimate with her body.

A gentle shift of her hand, and Cora’s thumb brushed delicately over her hardening nipple, causing a startled and aroused gasp to mingle between their mouths. Cora captured her mouth harder, with more passion, and gently sucked Regina’s reaching tongue into her mouth. Regina shuddered; no one had ever done that to her, and it felt good. Very good. She wanted to tell Cora, let her know that… that… that she wanted more, wanted the promise her mother had made her. Another gentle swipe of a thumb, and Regina arched up, parting her lips in need, and feeling her mother’s tongue delve deeply in a passionate lock Regina had shared with no one, not even Daniel—and most certainly not Leopold.

For the first time in her life, Regina begun to _truly_ realize how childish she had been in thinking Daniel had been her perfect match; her mother was showing her now that they had not even known how to kiss properly! Tears came to Regina’s eyes at the realization of her foolishness and the heartbreak that thought caused—the death of a childhood fantasy, Regina could not help think—but pushed it aside. Instead, she tightened the hold on her mother’s neck, and pushed her body up into the older woman pressed into her side. 

The long, deep, kiss slowly came to an end, and Cora pulled back as she continued to manipulate the breast under her hand, leaving Regina panting and wanton. Eyes that had always been able to dissect her, now studied Regina—and she let them. She let Cora see the tears that threatened her composure, the need that she was feeling, and the loneliness she had felt since Daniel—a thought now tainted by her self-loathing.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Cora asked gently, their lips still close enough for her mother’s breath to dance over her lips. The hand on her breast slowed, and Regina quickly slid her hand from her mother’s neck to capture it and press it harder against her. The pressure returned, and Regina moaned softly before answering, blinking against the warmth spreading throughout her body.

“Yes. I-I now realize how… foolish I was with… Daniel.” Regina said hesitantly, knowing her mother’s usual reaction to any mention of the stable boy. Cora’s eyes narrowed, but she withheld judgement while Regina struggled with her words. “It—he—was a childhood delusion. We did not understand… love.”

“No, my child. You did not. You understand now why I did what I did, do you not?” Cora’s voice was rough, and while she was unaccustomed to passion—most certainly in her mother—Regina knew instinctively that this entire exchange was having an effect on her mother as well. Pride welled up in her chest, even though her heart ached at the memories and realizations about Daniel. 

“Yes. I do.” She swallowed. “Thank you, mother, for always looking out for me.”

Cora shook her head with a soft smile and pressed her lips softly down on Regina’s, and even though they had exchanged kisses with tongue prior, and Cora’s hand still lightly worked her chest, it was the most intimate of touches they had shared so far. It was intoxicating—after years of reprimands and only a single smile or a single touch to tide her over—having her mother display so much outward love for her was almost more than Regina could bear. She sobbed lightly, meeting the soft press of lips and cupping her mother’s cheek. She wished they could stay like this forever, in this loving embrace. Then, Cora’s fingers lightly pinched her nipple through the light fabric still covering it, and Regina wanted nothing more than for her mother to show her everything she had been missing out on.

“Mother…” She moaned awe-struck, and Cora’s tongue once more invaded her mouth, shattering the intimacy between them in favour of urgency. Cora’s kisses became sloppier, less controlled, and Regina slid her hands in the hair she had—on very, very, rare occasions—been allowed to play with and braid as a child. Touching the curling locks had felt like a gift then, and a privilege now, as she wrapped two hands into it and tugged lightly to bring her mother more firmly against her. Cora indulged her only a moment, letting her youthful exuberance go in favour of more pressing issues—like clothing. 

They broke apart, and Regina panted into the widening space between them, regrettably letting go of her mother’s hair as Cora sat up. She was beautiful—truly beautiful—with her hair tumbling down over her shoulders and the dark nightgown that offset her light skin. She was bathing in the soft moonlight, and Regina’s breath hitched. Suddenly, she found herself observing her mother as just a woman and not someone related to her by blood. She could still remember a much younger Cora Mills, and the sensual beauty she had been then belay the woman before her now. An entirely unfamiliar emotion stirred in her chest—unfamiliar in relation to her mother, at least. She remembered the emotion quite well… from her time with Daniel.

“Take off you gown.” Cora instructed without raising her voice above a whisper, and Regina shot up to comply. She pulled the cloth up, bunching it at her sides, wiggling to get the cloth over her butt. Exposing first her lower body and then her chest to her mother’s welcoming gaze, she pulled the sole item of clothing she had been wearing over her head, and let it fall off the edge of the bed, pooling on the floor. She felt self-conscious under her mother’s appraising gaze, but took care not to cover herself in any way. She simply sat on the bed, and waited.

“King Leopold is a very lucky man, Regina.” Cora finally spoke, and the gravel in her mother’s voice made Regina shiver pleasantly. She straightened a little with the compliment. “Don’t rely on your beauty for too long, but as long as you can, know you have one of the finest bodies in all the lands.”

“With a mother as beautiful as you, how can I not…?” Regina answered quickly, feeling a blush creep to her cheeks at the compliment her mother had bestowed upon her. Her eyes flitted away from her mother as she spoke, wondering about the flutter in her stomach, but she returned her eyes to her mother now to see how the compliment was received. Cora was observing her—her face this time, not her body—and Regina smiled lightly. A moment passed, then Cora smiled as well, but Regina knew her mother well enough to know that her words had not had the desired effect.

“Thank you, dear. Now, let us resume your lesson. If you are still willing, of course?” Cora asked her, voice honey sweet in the way that told Regina to quickly make up for her insolence, even though Regina couldn’t fathom what wrong a honest compliment could do. 

“Yes, mother. Of course.” She assured quickly. Her eyes tumbled down to her mother’s hidden breasts and abdomen, and she wondered if she was brave enough to request her mother’s bare skin against hers. She wasn’t. Instead, she lay back and stretched out her body, hoping to present the best of herself to Cora’s gaze. “Please...?”

‘Please’ seemed to be the magic word as the reservation faded from Cora’s features and she ran her eyes slowly over Regina’s prone form. A smile—slightly predatory—tugged at her lips now, and Regina subconsciously licked her lips at the sight. Cora moved forward slowly, reaching out to run both hands up her legs, applying subtle pleasure on various muscle groups in turn. The touch was both relaxing and arousing, and Regina felt her eyes drift shut—until Cora’s fingers grazed the inside of her thighs, and Regina made room for them as they trailed upwards. Eyes settled on her mother now, who was inspecting the journey of her fingers. She could feel them now, fingers of one hand making the minute jump from leg to lips, and she hissed, straining against the light but still overwhelming touch. 

“Regina... have you ever touched yourself here?” Cora asked, as she lightly ran nails through soft curls, and Regina tried not to blush.

“N-No...” She answered. It was not what good girls did, after all, and she had come to lose all interest in anything related to her vagina once King Leopold had acquired access to it. The thoughts of him inside of her that came to her unbidden made her nauseous, and she ruefully tried to push them away.

“Good...” Cora mused, but the remark was obviously meant more for herself than for Regina. She didn’t mind; fingers now slid lower again, over her lips, and Regina couldn’t fight the moan that escaped her. If this pleasure came from light touches to the outside of her labia, how would a full touch of those fingers feel? Regina couldn’t imagine it, and still she longed for it. So much.

“Mother...” She moaned, and pushed her hips up into softly exploring fingers—fingers that now slid up over her abdomen until Cora could palm both her breasts possessively. Now, Regina was moaning in earnest, pushing her chest up and gasping when both her nipples were captured between thumb and index finger at the same time. Her head was swimming at these new sensations; Leopold groped at her breasts regularly, but he never managed this level of pleasure. He never made her want _more_ , but she did now. Her fingers clawed into the bedding, and she bit her lower lip roughly, tugging at it in pleasure until warm wetness enveloped a nipple, and her jaw fell slack at the sensation. Cora’s tongue lapped gently at the puckered bud, and she gasped in need, hands finding a more solid perch to anchor herself as her back arched off of the mattress, into the woman who had once more draped herself over her side, keeping her pleasantly trapped and tattered. 

“Mother...” She repeated, and struggled to open her eyes so she could behold the wonder of the woman whose breasts she had once suckled, do the same to her. The realization shot a warning through her system—this was wrong, corrupt—but the feeling gave way to pleasure as teeth scraped lightly over sensitive flesh. Her arousal burned away everything but her need, and she surrendered once more. A tentative hand found her mother’s hair again, and she tangled fingers into it. Swallowing, she pulled her mother’s head tighter against her flesh, and Cora hummed—moaned?—as she sucked harder. Regina trembled.

Cora lost herself in the sensations she was evoking in her daughter. More and more, Regina felt her lose control of her actions. She sucked willingly—wantonly—becoming rougher and rougher with her supporting hand on the other breast, while the other applied light pressure on her abdomen, scraping lower and lower. Regina stopped trying to silence the moans and pleas that fell from her lips. She was conscious of their volume, but she was adamant to show the older brunette how much she was enjoying the sensations—adamant to own her sexuality, as Cora was trying to teach her. It felt odd to be vocal, to whisper pleas, to hear moans pulled from her throat, but she allowed it to happen, regardless. If this was how the coupling between man and woman was supposed to feel, Leopold, indeed, did not respect her enough to give her the courtesy of it. It angered her, now, in a way that it never had, and her anger made her bolder.

She unclenched her sole hand on the bedding, and slid it into hair that had such a pull on her. Applying pressure, she pulled her mother’s head up—away from her chest—and met dark eyes a long moment. They were both panting, and Regina could see how her mother tried to reel herself back—to remember the lesson—and pulled her down so their lips connected solidly, in a crushing kiss that had both of them moan. They were blurring lines, and they both knew it. Regina, however, did not care. Her desire and anger empowered her in such a way that she allowed herself to stretch the leeway her mother allowed her on good days. She fought past her fear of the woman whose nails were once more playing with the soft curls between her legs, and lapped her tongue over the lips against hers. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt her belly clench as Cora parted her lips, thrusting her tongue against her daughter’s before sucking Regina’s into her mouth and biting down as a reminder of the power balance between them. 

Regina groaned, and once more pressed against the tongue against hers, mouths wide open as they kissed sloppily. Regina raised herself up when her mother pulled away—following her up so as not to lose the pressure of her lips, the sliding of her tongue—and drowned in the heady desire that flooded her system. She was trembling all over now, thighs quivering, as her arousal spiked to a level where her conscious mind shut down in favour of the promise of fulfilled desire. She should not tempt her mother, should not push her, but she had seen the need in Cora’s eyes. She had felt her desire, and she reminded herself once more of the lesson taught here. She was supposed to claim what was rightfully hers, and right now, Cora was rightfully hers.

Regina carefully refused to think of Cora as her mother, choosing to view her solely as someone whose love she desired, and who was giving it to her. In the end, Cora won their battle for dominance, but it was a shaky victory—one only bought by a strong finger dipping between slick folds and rubbing her engorged clitoris. Right away, Regina’s body failed her, and she fell back on the bed, hands shaking loose from hair that tickled her skin deliciously as it tumbled down. 

“Ohhh... please...” Regina pleaded, surrendering control back to the woman who settled herself more solidly on top of her before reclaiming a nipple and sucking roughly as her finger rubbed gently, slowly, drawing out Regina’s pleasure. Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever felt this _good_ , and if Leopold could give her this, she would share his bed willingly, she vowed. Pleasure was so rare in her life, she would accept it from Leopold, if he could offer it. As she fought to open her eyes, she shakily lifted her mother’s hair so she could see lips clasp around her hardened peak, tongue flicking over it. Regina shuddered, her insides clenching as her hips moved in time with her mother’s strokes without conscious thought. 

_He should pay dearly for the privilege_ ; her mother’s words repeated over and over in her mind. If this was what using her body made Leopold feel, she could easily see how withholding it from him would get her what she desired. She would hate him for every time he took her, but she could maybe—maybe—make him pay for it. A business transaction, of sorts; her body for a limited time in exchange for her freedom the rest of it. She questioned her own strength in the face of this proposition, but right now, as her body hotly arched into the pleasure bestowed upon it, she felt she could do it. She could make Leopold pay for every sin committed with her body, for every transgression upon her soul. She could fight this cage and maybe, one day, she would not have to fight him anymore. He was much older than her, he would die eventually, or become unable to perform his husbandly duties. She would just have to wait it out... and make him pay.

“Regina!” Her mother’s sharp voice called her back to the present, and Regina realized her mother’s head had lifted, that her hand had slowed, and her mother was angry enough to press her lips into a tight line—a sure sign Regina had best tread carefully in the next few seconds. She directed all of her attention to her mother, and did not break eye-contact. Breaking eye-contact would end this, and Regina did not want this to end. Her entire body was tingling with the hot need that coursed through it, and she barely had control of her breathing. Her mind had just... drifted.

“If you will not pay attention, you can leave right now. Do you understand? Tell me what you were thinking about, and do not lie, Regina. I will know if you lie—a mother always knows.” Cora spat angrily at her, her feelings now fully under control, and Regina swallowed at the danger so close to her. She had nowhere to go; in fact, her mother’s hand was still pressed against her sex, and Regina had to fight to keep her hips still. She was at her mother’s mercy, and the fear that shot through her at that realization mingled with her arousal, making her shudder.

“Leopold.” She confessed quietly. “I was thinking of King Leopold. I was thinking that... if lying with me makes him feel like lying with you is making me feel than perhaps... than perhaps I can do it.”

“’ _It_ ’? Use your words. You are a grown woman, do not make me ask again.” Cora chastised, and Regina took a deep breath. She hardly recognized her voice when she spoke next, and she felt her hate, anger, and sorrow push at her chest as she did.

“Make him pay.” She vocalized, and Cora sought her eyes a few moments, before a smile broke out on kiss-swollen lips. The hand cupping her was pulled away, and Regina shuddered at the loss, searching her mother’s eyes in confusion. Was that not the lesson? Was she not supposed to contemplate these things? Her confusion faded as her mother’s finger pressed against her lips. Eyes found each other, and Regina took a gamble: she parted her lips, letting her tongue caress the digit. Her mother nodded slowly, and she parted her lips wider to accept the offering. She moaned at the taste of her own arousal, and the roughness of the finger that pressed inside her mouth to the knuckle, making her gag in retribution of her lapse of attention just now. Submissively, she lapped her tongue against the finger, cleaning it as she wondered why she had never tasted herself before; as she wondered if her mother tasted the same as she did.

The darkness crept back into Cora’s eyes, and when she was satisfied with Regina’s efforts, she pulled her finger out with a loud pop. She crushed their mouths together again, tongue probing into Regina’s mouth without preamble. Regina shared her wetness freely, more so when the hand returned to her sex, and applied more and firmer pressure onto her clit than ever before. Regina finally allowed herself to breathe again, as her hands wrapped back into her mother’s hair to deepen the kiss and reclaim the desire that had faded to a dull throbbing in light of Cora’s anger.

“Good girl...” Cora praised against her lips, and Regina tugged her down again as her hips jumped sharply with the quickening flicks of her mother’s middle finger. Need claimed her again, and so she claimed her mother’s tongue desperately, meeting it again and again, as she allowed Cora to possess her mouth. When the kiss broke, Regina was left gasping for breath as Cora pushed herself up a little so she could observe her daughter. Her hand moved down, and Regina bucked up, amazing herself with her desire to feel her mother inside of her. She was used to dreading this moment, dreading the pain, dreading the motions against her. Now, she could not wait for the intimate invasion of her body. Cora was looking down upon her, and Regina let her hands fall, gripping the bed sheets. 

“Please, mother, please. Show me... let me feel how it is supposed to feel.” She pleaded, and was rewarded with the slow, steady, press of a single digit inside her core. It was so easy, not a single bit of pain, just a delicious pressure and then euphoria. Her entire body felt like it was on fire for a long moment, and she strained up desperately, eyes wide, before sinking back down and letting her eyes drift shut. She sighed blissfully, and forgot everything, including the need to breathe.

“Look at me.” Cora said, but it wasn’t a command; it was more gentle than that. A request. Regina complied immediately, and met her mother’s unwavering gaze as she gasped for air. Cora slowly pulled back her finger, and pressed back into her again. Regina shuddered, moaned, and gripped the sheets as her hips rose to meet the digit on their own accord.

“Good?” 

Regina nodded, robbed of her ability to speak. It _was_ good. So good. Cora watched her intently, searching her face for every emotion. She could feel her mother’s body press into her harder, could feel the shudder that tore through it as her motions increased in speed and force. The initial euphoria gave way to a deep and seemingly unquenchable longing for more—more pressure, more speed, more fingers; anything to build to this magical point her mother had promised and she could feel in her gut. She parted her legs further, trying to convey what her mind refused to formulate—what her mind did not have the vocabulary to formulate—and the pressure increased, her mother’s arm bending at the wrist until she could thrust inside up to the knuckle, causing Regina to jump every time. 

She wanted to reach up to pull her mother tighter against her, she wanted to explore the flesh hidden from her by her mother’s nightgown, she wanted to press nails into her mother’s side and pepper kisses along her jaw and neck like Cora now dipped to do with her. She wanted to experience this the other way around as well—to discover if Cora was as wet for her, as she was for her mother, and press so intimately into her—but she knew it would not be allowed. That that kind of insolence would go against the lesson being taught tonight, and so she fisted the bedding instead, and let her mother take over her body. A soft tongue lapped at the slight sheen of perspiration that had appeared between her breasts, then her mother’s mouth dipped for a nipple, pulling it between strong lips a moment and causing Regina to gasp. Lips travelled upwards, into her neck, and Regina couldn’t fight herself anymore: she needed to touch. 

A hand flew again to dishevelled long hair that teased her oversensitive skin so, and she pressed her mother’s head tighter against the skin of her neck as her other remained locked with the bedding. For a deliciously thrilling moment, teeth sunk into the flesh of her neck, and she could feel a gush of wetness slip from her, coating her mother’s hand. Another shiver, and the force of her mother’s thrusts increased as Regina lost all ability to be quiet. To think. To do anything but long for this to never end.

“Mother...!” She gasped, as the woman still pressed impossibly into her side applied pressure on the sensitive ball of nerves left neglected in favour of more intimate contact. Jumping, her hand subconsciously wound tighter into Cora’s hair—tight enough to have her groan. The fear that that caused in Regina—who immediately lessened her hold—only added to the raging fires inside of her, but all it caused Cora to do was lick the skin of her neck and then bite down softly again, not leaving marks while still skyrocketing Regina’s desire.

“This is how good it should make you feel, my love...” Cora mused against the shell of her ear before flicking her tongue over it, and Regina moaned, thighs quaking as they undulated beneath her mother’s skilled touch. She was getting impossibly close to something—a breaking point she had never known but _longed for_ with such desperation that she was sobbing now, tears sliding down her cheeks as sensation overwhelmed her and ever word, and every touch, and every brush of that damn hair undid a little more of her.

“Please!” She cried out in response, asking—begging—for something she knew Cora could give her. Something she could feel her mother longed to give her. She didn’t question it anymore; she simply accepted her own desperation at the lesson at hand—it was a lesson, just a lesson—and fought the realization that this would only happen once. That if she wanted to feel this again, it had to be with her husband. That thought alone was enough to put a laser focus on this experience, preserving it, and all of her senses became even more heightened. Regina was coming undone, and the ease with which she surrendered to it, was frightening.

“Please what, Regina. Tell me what you want.” Cora demanded easily, and Regina could read the implied promise in the words. Cora would give her what she desired—but within reason, within the scope of the lesson. The lesson, she cursed it, now, because whatever part of her her mother had awakened, it was screaming for more. In the end, she settled on a simple request she knew she would be granted, because even the thought of her mother stopping in anger now, so close to the bliss she was sure would follow soon, was enough to cause a panic in her.

“Please kiss me...?” She breathed, and it took only a single beat of a frantic heart before hungry lips descended upon hers. Two hands wrapped into hair as she breathed into the kiss, smelling her own arousal in the air, the scent of her own sweat, mingled with her mother’s, and mixed with the scent of exquisite perfume Regina remembered so well from her childhood. It was enough. The kiss combined with the thrusts of a long finger inside of her aching body, and the roughening pressure on her clit was enough to topple her over the edge of the abyss, and she arched up, lips tearing away in favour of a breath of air she desperately needed before her body became undone and her mind shattered. White dots invaded her vision and for a moment, Regina was scared she was having a seizure—then there was only pleasure and bliss as her body caved to the slow build it had been subjected to. 

She had never known anything could feel this good, this _right_. It was as if her body suddenly became aware of its purpose, and she rode the waves of her orgasm in shocked bliss. How could she—who had been deprived of good, of pleasure, of love—not long for more of this? How could she not long for this to never end? She finally had everything; her mother’s love, her body’s pleasure, her mind’s quiet... she would do anything for more of this, she now realized, and the sliver of her that was not consumed with pleasure realized that this had been her mother’s intent all along. She had taught her daughter the lesson, alright; by instilling the same desperate desire in her as she was supposed to instil in her husband. It was alright, though, because if that was the case, then Cora would give her more of this in the future—if she was good, if she did what her mother asked of her. She would allow Regina into her bed again and she would make her feel good in return for her obedience. A new leash, but one infinitely more pleasurable than the punishment bestowed upon her in the past. 

As she fell back onto the mattress—completely spent and panting desperately for air—she pulled her mother’s head down, and her lips onto hers. She sealed her fate with a kiss that took her breath away anew, even though Cora’s motions had stopped and she was simply inside of her now, letting her ride the last of the shudders her body brought her. Regina’s tears dried as she met a warm tongue that tangled with hers willingly. It tattered her, brought her down, and eventually, she managed to still her body. Her walls relaxed around the digit still pressed into her and, as if Cora had been waiting for that moment, she slid it out, cupping her daughter’s soaked sex in the palm of her hand. Another shudder tore through Regina’s sensitive frame, and she pressed up so their lips connected more forcefully. Another few seconds, then Regina knew she had to give up her hold. Her hands slid out of her mother’s hair, and she fell back, blinking her eyes open as she fought to get her heart rate and breathing under control. 

The cold distance she knew so well had returned to Cora’s eyes when she met them, and Regina realized that they both knew what had just happened—and her mother was aware of the fact she knew as well. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” Cora asked, not unsympathetic, and she nodded softly.

“Yes, mother. I understand.” She replied automatically, and meant it. The layers of meaning beyond the simple words hung heavily between them, and Cora smiled the honey sweet smile Regina hated most of all. She knew she couldn’t break eye contact, but felt tears and gall rising inside of her, regardless. She pushed them down, and waited until Cora finished her observation of her. Her mother’s hand left her core, and despite herself, Regina shuddered at the loss. A hint of a more sincere smile touched Cora’s lips, then, and Regina felt her heart soar. All she had ever wanted was her mother’s approval, after all, and now she knew how good that approval felt, she knew that longing would never go away. For a quiet moment, the ghost of their connection lingered, then that, too, died.

“It’s time to dress and return to bed now, Regina. Don’t dally.” Cora said as she rolled over, away from her daughter’s aching but singing body. Regina took a steadying breath and sat up, trying not to feel ashamed, trying not to feel anything at all. She crawled from the bed and reached for her night gown, slipping it on easily and feeling thankful for the false sense of protection it inspired in her. She stepped into her slippers, and wrapped herself up in her robe. She couldn’t cry. Not yet. That thought alone occupied her entire being, and so she did not realize Cora had left the bed with her until she felt her mother’s body drape around her back, her unstained hand wrapping around her daughter’s waist. Despite her anger, and her sadness, and her shame, Regina felt a shiver of arousal course through her body to pool at her core, and she sighed as she relaxed into the body against her. 

“Don’t be cross with me, Regina,” Her mother murmured into her shoulder, and Regina was horrified to discover she had been emoting her emotions despite her best attempt not to. Cora sounded understanding, though, and so she did not tense. She leaned her head back onto a welcoming shoulder, and gasped when the hand on her abdomen travelled higher, into her robe, to tease a sensitive breast through her remaining layer of clothing. “As your mother, I only have your best interest at heart.”

It was a lie, Regina knew that now. Still, there was comfort in the voice—in hearing the words—and she allowed them to sooth her frantic emotions. She let herself be lulled into feeling alright, and wanted, and loved. Because it was easier. The lips that traversed her neck were easy, the warmth of the body against her was easy, the breasts that pressed into her were easy, and easiest of all was the delicious pressure on her chest that once more ignited her desire. She moaned, and Cora kissed her shoulder once more before letting her hand fall away. Regina took a steadying breath, trying to shake the haze of arousal that had once more overtaken her. 

“One day, you will teach these lessons to your young step-daughter, and you will understand, my dear. You will understand how a mother loves her child.” Cora promised, and panic flashed through Regina’s system. Never. She would never subject Snow White to this, no matter how much she hated her and how much she wanted her dead, she would never do this. It was too late, though; her mother’s unsuspected words had produced images that now refused to fade from her mind. They were images of a slightly older Snow, writhing under her as she pressed deeply inside of her wet core, nuzzling her step-daughter’s neck as she drew out more and louder moans from the impressionable girl. She didn’t reply to her mother’s statement, but she knew she did not have to; Cora had planted the seed, and Regina knew that even though she would fight it, she would teach Snow White this lesson one day, because if she did, she would be rewarded by her own mother. 

“Get some rest now, child. Tomorrow, we hunt for deer in the woods, and you have plans to put into motion. I shall talk to Leopold in the morning, and all will be arranged. Do not fear, I will make this life enjoyable for you.” Cora promised, and she nodded meekly. She waited until Cora stepped back, and turned around. The lips that now descended on hers were tainted with the reality of the lesson taught, and the promises for the future; promises of her own destruction. She still moaned into the comparatively chaste kiss, and Cora smirked once she withdrew. A second passed as eyes met and the full scope of Cora’s dark mind settled within Regina’s heaving chest. Then, she headed for the door, leaving her mother to sit down on the bed majestically as she watched her daughter go. 

Regina did not turn around as she headed out the door, but as she closed it behind her, she caught a glimpse of a single digit disappearing between full lips, and a mixture of arousal and self-loathing burned so hotly through her system, she almost could not remain standing. She shut the door quickly—desperately—and leaned into it heavily a moment before steadying herself and rushing through the hallways to her own rooms, shutting the door behind her before throwing herself onto the bed and dissolving into tears.

Regina now realized she would never be free, that she would never be good. She was tainted by her own desires, and her own needs. She was tainted by a mother who had only a single person’s interest at heart: her own. No matter what, Regina would forever belong to her mother, but there had been a deeper truth in her lesson as well; Regina did not have to belong to anyone else _but_ her mother. She could use her anger and darkness to take Leopold’s influence on her out of the equation and perhaps, that darkness could also provide her with her revenge against Snow White, without whom none of this would have happened in the first place. 

Her tears dried in light of the revelations her frayed mind presented to her, and she pulled herself out of the foetal position she had dissolved into. Stretching out flat on her back, she eyed the canopy above her as she, indeed, begun to plan for the power she now realized she needed. Her mother might think only of herself, and have only her own best interests at heart, but in a way, she did care about her daughter. She had provided her the tools to fight, after all, and had steeled her resolve. 

Planning Snow’s demise was easier now she was aware of her own inherent darkness, and she knew she would never again cry over the crimes Leopold committed with her body. She would make him pay for every single one; she would make both of them pay, and then she would finally be free. She would finally have her mother’s approval, and with that approval, there would be more nights like these. Regina could still feel her walls pulsing, the wetness coating her thighs, and the desire for more still burning hotly in her throat. She would always want more nights like these. 

Her hand travelled down her body of its own accord, and she bunched up her robe and night gown until she could run her fingers through wetness that made her gasp. _Own your sexuality_ , her mother had said, and so she begun to explore herself, taking control of her own body and her own pleasure as she surrendered to the darkness plaguing her mind. She wasn’t a good girl anymore; she was allowed to do this now. She didn’t have to fight her murderous thoughts anymore, nor her desires. 

Her mother had been right; this—all of this—was her greatest power, and she was no longer a girl scared for her life and happiness. She was a woman now, who knew the pleasures of adult things. She was a woman, and she would behave like one. With a sigh, she let her wetness coat her fingers as she pushed inside herself. She allowed her mind the ultimate betrayal: imagining that it were not _her_ walls she was caressing, but her mother’s. The way her walls clenched around her at that thought was enough to confirm everything she had just told herself, and she surrendered to it. She surrendered to the pleasure, and the darkness, and drowned in her desire. This was her fate now, and if that was the case, she would relish it, squeeze every bit of satisfaction from it that she could, until it burned her away completely. It was only fitting, she mused... for a Queen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned to add a chapter to this, but then Tumblr happened and the Anons came out of the woodworks, and now there is a new chapter with three more planned, all semi-stand alone but following the previous chapters. These chapters will have to wait for a while, because the Swan Queen Big Bang submission must come first. I'm breaking from pure Black Queen from this chapter onwards, so be forwarned. This chapter contains explicit Leopold/Regina, and explicit Black Queen. Written to Imagine Dragons' 'Demons'. Let me know what you think?

It took Leopold six days before he caved to his desires. For six—glorious—days he all but ignored her as they moved past each other within the barren halls that made up Regina’s prison. He had barely looked upon her, let alone talked to her. He made an effort for normalcy when Cora was around but however the discussion between her mother and her husband had gone, it had cooled their relationship considerably; more even than Regina, Leopold avoided her mother. 

Even though she’d had six days to prepare for her next night with Leopold—which she had always known would come, and which had hung over her head like a sword of Damocles—she felt as equally ill-equipped to deal with the situation as right after her lesson with her mother. Despite her anger and the permanent fracture that now tainted her soul, Regina knew she did not have the confidence or the power to do to Leopold what her mother had asked of her the night their relationship had changed—stretched—so. 

Cora for her part had refused to engage with her daughter about either the topic of her sexual relationship with the King, or the one between them, and bringing the subjects up with her mother had earned her a severe strike across the cheek that had burned for hours afterwards. It had been Snow White who had found her in the kitchen after she had sent away the staff, and who had held a cold towel to her cheek. The young girl had kissed her swelling cheek to make it all better, and all Regina had been able to do was look away as her thoughts consumed her. 

Her mother’s words about the lesson she would teach Snow White eventually had repeated over and over in her head, and she had not been able to stop her imaginative mind. Whatever good there had been between Snow and her—as little as it had been—was now distorted and vile, and Regina hated herself for her thoughts about a girl only seven years her junior but far too little to be thought of in this regard—especially by her step-mother. She had eventually sent the girl away crudely, and Snow had left as if struck. The slight thrill that had caused Regina had frightened her, because she had reminded herself so much of her mother in that moment. 

It had been quiet days, spent in complete normalcy with her mother, and mostly in absence of her husband and step-daughter. Quiet days in which Regina had tried to redefine herself by everything she had learned, and in which she had driven herself to madness. She was almost glad to hear the familiar knock of glove-covered knuckles on the door to her rooms.

“Enter!” She called out, and a young guard opened the door to a gap, bowing down to her before straightening. He scraped his throat a moment as Regina stood from her vanity to accept his message.

“The King requires your presence in his chambers, your majesty.” He said gently, detached from the message that carried another promise of defilement for her. She straightened, took a deep breath, and steadied her voice.

“No.” She stated. The guard blinked, perplexed. “You may return to the King and tell him that if he requires my presence in his bed tonight, he may come to escort me to it himself.” 

The young guard swallowed heavily, blushing down into his armour, and eventually nodded, shuffling back uncomfortably and pulling the door shut behind him. Regina released a shuddering breath, and returned to the vanity to fix her appearance to perfection, brushing long curls and applying ample drops of her gentle perfume to strategic points on her body. Leopold would come for her, she knew. She needed to be ready for him.

It took half an hour for a livid King to throw open the door to her rooms, growling at her how she had the nerve to reject his invitation. Regina startled, but tried to hide it, standing somewhat nervously in the face of her husband’s rage as she tried to project herself to be bigger and braver than she was. He was upon her in seconds, raising a hand for a strike she knew would never connect. Calmly, she opened her mouth to cut off his speech.

“Do not raise your hand to me, my King.” She warned, meeting his eyes. “My mother resides in this palace, and if you strike me, your title will not protect you.”

Surprise flashed over his features a moment before anger overtook him again. He did, however, lower his hand, but just so he could roughly grab at her arm.

“If I summon you to my bed _my Queen_ , you will come to my bed. Your mother may be a witch, but you are my wife, and I am entitled to your body and affections.” He impressed upon her as his fingers squeezed hard enough to leave marks upon her flesh. She winched, but stood her ground.

“I am not denying you your pleasure, husband. All I request of you is the honour not to be summoned into your bed. If I am your wife, then please, my King, do not reduce me to a whore.” The words left a deafening silence in their wake, and Regina filled them easily by pressing her body—dressed simply in a forest green dress that made her look even younger than she was—against his. She ignored his hand still around her one upper arm, and used the other to scrape his chest through his fine cotton shirt. She smiled encouragingly up at him, showing sexual interest in her husband for the first time in their entire history, and she could see his anger fading in light of this new revelation. He had taken her many times before, but never with her showing initiative. 

“Let me be your wife, Leopold.” She cooed, and felt her stomach turn. “I know my mother’s words have stung you, but they can be good for us...”

Leopold licked his lips as he stared down at her for a long moment, trying to determine if she was playing him. This turn of events from reluctant bride to seductive wife must be throwing him, Regina mused. She could not blame him; bile rose in her throat again as she thought of what she was offering. Leopold did not trust her, he did not trust her mother, but when she felt his hold on her lessen, she knew he was not going to care about either of those right now. He was going to accept her offer, and she was going to have to follow through with her mother’s wishes. Her gut clenched fearfully as Leopold’s hand came up to cup the side of her face while the other gently rubbed at her arm. She had only a moment to steel herself before his lips pressed firmly upon hers, and she forced herself not to gag. 

Stubble raked her skin as Leopold kissed her surprisingly gently, cupping her neck a little firmer as he parted his lips against hers and ran his tongue over her lips. She parted them and forced herself to moan lightly as his tongue met hers in the minimal space between them. His arm slid from her arm to her waist and pulled her closer as she let him overtake her mouth, flattening her hand against his chest consciously as it threatened to ball into a claw. She did not want this. She did not want this... but she had to. He was her husband, and her mother had promised her it would get better. There would be pleasure.

As a defensive mechanism, Regina’s mind tuned out Leopold’s press against her. Instead, she imagined the kisses that had thrilled her so—First Daniel’s, but then her treacherous mind supplied her with the feel and taste of her mother moving against her and she moaned in earnest. Leopold’s hold on her intensified and she reached up to pull his face harder against hers with both hands. Perhaps if she encouraged him, it would be over sooner. 

In a surprising feat of strength and desire, Leopold broke the kiss and swooped her off of her feet in one go. She squealed despite herself, and forced herself to laugh at his daring as he grinned at her, obviously excited by the idea of having her desire him. He did not ask after the sudden change of heart, and she wanted to cry. Instead, she tightened her hold on him by slipping her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his ear. 

“Take me to bed, my King.” She instructed, and felt a part of her dying, swallowed by hatred. He did take her to bed, then, carrying her to his chambers with an ease that he feigned, and Regina found herself wishing for her husband to die of a heart attack before they reached their bed. He did not, however, and she Regina allowed him to set her down gently on the floor next to the bed after he kicking the door shut behind him. His hands quickly begun to make short work of the bodice of her dress, but she halted him, desperate to limit his touches on her body.

“Let me do that for you...” She whispered gently, and pushed into him for another kiss to hide her swelling tears. She kissed him until he groaned into her mouth and his hands returned to her body. She kissed him until she was sure she would not cry. Breaking apart with a feigned gasp, she pushed at him gently. “Won’t you sit?”

He did, on the bed, looking at her with such unveiled desire, she knew she would be able to play him like her mother wanted her to. That thought alone was enough to strengthen her to the point where she could undo the top of her dress and slip the entire garment off of her body until it pooled around her ankles on the floor. She withstood his gaze, allowed him to linger on her breasts, on the apex between her thighs, and then allowed him to reach out and take a light hold of her hips as he pulled her to him on the bed. She stood between his parted legs, and was unsurprised by the bulge forming in his pants. Flashes of her mother’s gentle finger pushing into her wetness settled her mind enough to relax her body. Perhaps this time it would not hurt when he forced himself inside of her. 

“You really are beautiful, Regina...” He praised her, still slightly out of breath from the exertion of carrying her through the cold halls of the palace. She swallowed and smiled lightly, hoping he read youthful sensuality in the gesture. By the way his hold on her hips intensified, he did. She hated him so much in that moment, hated him for not reading behind her thin facade, for not releasing her from her fate... but she had to thank him as well, because her mother would be so proud.

“Thank you.” She whispered, forcing herself to encourage his affections. “Will you not disrobe as well, my King?”

The King smiled up at her. She could read in his eyes now that he would take his time with her tonight, now he had her so willingly under his fingertips. She steeled herself to go through with it, to surrender to it, to make him pay in the long run. It would be worth it, in the long run.

“All in due time. All in due time.” He murmured, and pressed his face against her belly to revel in her soft skin. His stubble felt nothing like her mother’s hair, and Regina simply weathered the touch, letting her hands rest on his balding head as a way of encouragement. He had to desire her, had to please her, and he needed to believe she wanted it. If not, she would never have power over him. 

_Own your sexuality_... she brought his head up and guided his willing mouth to her breast. She allowed the shudder that tore through her resisting system as his lips parted and enveloped a nipple hardened by the cool draft of the room. She pushed him harder against her as her eyes closed and a single tear escaped the confines of her eyes. Still, she groaned as he sucked and his hands hungrily palmed the globes of her ass. 

It was supposed to feel good, she reminded herself. He was supposed to please her—pleasure her. It was supposed to feel good. And it did feel good; on a purely physical level, Leopold’s mouth and hands were forcing a reaction from her body. It pained her to admit it—and it drove home once more how depraved she was for finding pleasure in an activity so hated—but he was arousing her. When he pulled her closer and lavished her nipple with his tongue, she used a single hand to wipe away her unruly tears and pressed her hips against his chest. 

He switched breasts on his own accord, and she encouraged him, nails lightly pressing into his scalp. He groaned against her flesh, and she arched her back as a pang of desire traversed her spine. _It was supposed to feel good_. His hands were everywhere now, over her back, the back of her legs, caressing her ass and hips, and pulling her into him harder. She let herself be touched—handled—and moaned without feeling the desire to. Leopold rewarded her with a light tug on her nipple, and now she did moan willingly. 

Releasing her from his mouth, he stared up at her, and she tried to hide her reddened eyes by shutting them slightly, faking desire in the face of her husband’s touches. It was easier now she could feel a light throbbing between her legs. Instead of Leopold, she forced herself to envision her mother looking up at her with arousal, and it helped. She captured his head again, and leaned down to kiss him. The coarse hairs of his bears undid the fantasy, but by the way he enthusiastically filled her mouth, he did not notice the shudder that ran through her, or interpreted it as pleasure-filled. Regina did not care. All she cared about was getting to the end of this.

Urgently, she begun to tug on her husband’s shirt and now, Leopold allowed her to take it off, revealing his extended belly and a field of soft grey curls Regina forced herself to run her fingers through, scratching the skin underneath lightly. Leopold shivered and pushed her back. He undid his boots and Regina stepped out of her slippers as she waited for Leopold to stand and undo his pants. Once he dropped them and straightened to reveal himself to her, Regina knew she had to push through quickly, or she would break down. All she wanted to do was run, run and never return to a man old enough to be her father, a man whose cock proudly displayed her desire for her. She pushed into his space, brought their mouths together and kissed him deeply as she shuddered with disgust at the way his hard member flattened against her lower belly. 

_Fast. Fast_. It became a mantra in her mind, and she focussed on it as a trembling hand reached down between them to take a sure hold of her husband’s arousal. She wasn’t enjoying it now, she wasn’t aroused anymore, but Leopold groaned and pulled her closer by the back of the head as his tongue slid urgently against hers in a wet embrace that made Regina want to scream. Instead, she pumped him into solid hardness, forced her mind to stop screaming, and pushed her husband down onto the bed with her free hand once she was sure his erection would hold. 

She fought the tears, fought the hate, fought everything inside of her as she watched him crawl back on the bed to accommodate her, and settle large eyes upon her as she crawled over his legs, raising herself up over his hips. She knew she should say something, that she should make him work harder for it, but she just wanted to be done. She wanted him to have his pleasure so she could get out of his rooms, out of his sight. Not even her mother could ever make her feel as corrupt as Leopold made her feel right now, and instigating this encounter made the darkness even greater. Renewing her hold on Leopold’s erection, she thanked all the Gods that her willingness to sleep with him was enough to arouse him tonight. Six days of abstinence was doing its work in making her job easier, and she would not be forced to suffer through more degrading activities than penetration. It was a small favour, but a favour, regardless.

It didn’t hurt as much as it always did, but she was still panting and biting the inside of her cheek to get through it. Leopold gave her time, eyes screwed shut as her walls enveloped him. She held on to the thought that it went easier than usual, and forced her trembling hips down until they rested over his, taking more and more of him inside of her with small intervals in which she lifted herself up a fraction, enough to make sliding down easier. She had to take a moment, then. She didn’t want to move; her walls were burning, and her stomach threatened to turn, but she did it anyway when Leopold’s eyes opened and his hands pressed into her hips. She smiled down at her husband the best she could and pushed herself up a little before grinding down. 

As always, the pain faded to a dull throbbing that she could withstand. At least Leopold was enjoying her efforts; he was sweating profusely, hips rising to meet her downward thrusts, and she allowed him, ignoring everything but stimulating her husband. She tried to imagine the pressure inside of her was her mother, stroking her lovingly, bringing her passion higher. She latched on to every bit of desire Leopold managed to inspire in her, simply by stimulating her. She was _supposed_ to enjoy it. 

Regina ran her nails over his chest, scratching his nipples, and he shuddered at the attention she was giving him. She felt the need to look away so as not to sink her nails into his throat and rip it out. Seeing as his eyes had closed again, she let her eyes wander, and almost screamed out when she became aware of a figure partly cloaked in shadows, observing their moments on the bed. She had to clasp a hand over her mouth not to do so as a warning finger came to red lips and her mother stepped forward out of the shadows. Regina hated the shot of arousal that crawled lazily down her spine at the knowledge her mother had observed her overtaking her husband.

Cora smiled and nodded encouragingly, and Regina increased the movements of her hips, groaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure that overtook her at the rougher penetration she was now forcing upon herself. Having her mother be here made it better; at least she knew her sacrifice was going to be rewarded—she could see it in her mother’s eyes; a promise of pleasure that raised her arousal enough to continue. It was something to hold on to, something to focus on, and she thought of that instead of her husband, instead of wondering how Cora had gotten here, and how she had known.

“Regina...” The word was forced through clenched jaws, and Regina quickly settled her gaze back upon Leopold, who was still unable to open his eyes. She could feel his movements jerking, could see his breathing quicken and become shallow. He would not last much longer, and Regina had to force back a sob of gratitude as she returned her hand to his chest and dragged her nails down. She leaned forward—halting her movements—to kiss his lips lightly. 

“Right here...” She murmured against them lovingly while she wished she could crawl out of her skin and forget all of this, and he groaned, tugging at her hips. She straightened and begun to move again, faster jerks that had him shiver. Pleasing a man was easy—especially when he was a deprived King—all it took was time. She let her eyes drift back to her mother, who stood patiently waiting—watching—with her hands clasped in front of her body, barely touching the exquisite dark red velvet of her dress. She wished her mother’s hair was down so she could more easily imagine how their night together had felt, but it would have to do, regardless. 

Forcing her gaze back to her husband, she cupped his cheek as she increased her movements, rolling her hips on every downward thrust until he was groaning with pleasure. Regina unclenched her jaw and forced air into her lungs; she was panting herself now, in exertion and the thinnest trickles of arousal that settled hotly in the pit of her belly. 

“Am I pleasing you, my King?” She asked innocently, and Leopold forced his eyes open. She was surprised by the impact his needy eyes had on her. She had never seen him so fragile—vulnerable—as in this moment as he looked up at his young wife riding his cock. He did not love her, but he wanted her. He would do anything to have her continue, she realized, and she had to fight a dangerous smirk of delight. 

_Make him pay._

“Please...” Leopold breathed hoarsely, and she could feel his body tremble under hers. She knew him, she knew his desires, and her arousal skyrocketed when she realized she had him in the palm of her hand. He would do anything now, if only she let him come. It was intoxicating, and it almost made it worth the pain and the degradation that her body was forced to endure. She dug her nails into his chest, and he gasped, trembling in desire as his hips pressed up. She forced herself down on him harder, taking him deeper inside of her, and she watched his face contort in a despicable mask of desire that had her stomach turn to the point she had to swallow down bile. 

When he came inside of her, Regina felt her skin crawl. She quickly found her mother’s eyes on the far side of the room, and pleaded her silently for relief, for an escape. Cora nodded encouragingly again, jaw set, as she observed her daughter, and made her promises with those dark eyes that Regina latched onto in desperation as her entire body shuddered with disgust at the jerky stream of come that filled her. This, perhaps, was the worst part of all, and she bit the inside of her lip until it bled, until Leopold fell back onto the mattress with a guttural groan and dissolved into a panting mess of a man. Just looking upon him sickened her to the point where she had to hurry to scrub her face of emotions before he laid eyes on her again. 

Once his cock softened to the point that it slipped from her, she stilled her movements, and fought to regain her breath. He did too, but for entirely different reasons. Cora shifted, and Regina hurried to fix her eyes on her. This time when Cora nodded, Regina felt her entire body relax. Cora dissolved in a puff of purple smoke, and she knew she could escape now, that she had done enough to satisfy her mother—and husband. With an iron grip on her stomach, she leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips again. 

“Rest, I will see myself out.” She said, and crawled off of the boneless old man whom she had just let fuck her. The thought sent shivers of disgust down her spine, and all she wanted to do was clean herself—scrub her skin until it fell off, soak in a scalding hot bath until his semen washed from her body. She felt dirty, used, and it hurt to stand—let alone walk. How many more years of this? She wasn’t sure she could do it. As she towered over his spent form, though, her anger flared and won out over her desperation. One day, she promised herself, she would find a way to end this. One day, she would know every weakness, and she would exploit every single one of them.

She would make him pay for all of it.

He didn’t resist her departure. He mumbled something she could not make out, and let it go. She just wanted to wiggle into her dress, fix her hair, and leave unseen. Her hands were trembling when she laced up her dress, and she hated the uncomfortable burning between her thighs, hated the way she had to clench in fear of spilling the results of her husband’s desire down her legs—and it still did, unstoppable. In the end, Regina settled for a half done up bodice and a hand through her hair. Leopold was stirring now, and she did not want to be here for him to request another go, or for him to touch her. Perhaps one day she would not be too choked with hate, pain and anger to flee. One day he might give her actual pleasure. Today was not that day.

She fitted her slippers on her feet and rushed from the rooms, escaping the marriage bed she despised, and feeling a tremble race through her body that would not settle. There was no fighting her tears now as she rushed through the hallways and carefully avoided the guards. Tears fell from her eyes without the possibility to halt them. Everything she had held in during the brief but horrendous encounter with her husband rushed out of her, and she dissolved into a shattered mess that she feared no one could put back together. 

When she threw the door to her rooms shut behind her, she found her mother waiting for her, opening her arms for a hug that Regina rushed into. She threw her arms around her mother’s waist and cried loudly, choked sobs shaking her abused frame. Cora whispered words of encouragement into her hair, telling her how proud she was of her, how well she had done—Regina soaked up the words like a sponge, hoping it would scrub away some of the pain and filth that had settled in her chest. Hoping against all odds that it would make her feel better. 

Once her sobs subsided a little, Regina became aware of the way her mother was brushing long fingers through her hair, how she had an arm securely around her, and how loving her embrace was. She inhaled deeply and found that the familiar scent settled her frayed nerves. She sighed when Cora’s hands slid to her shoulders and then down over her arms, but winched when they brushed over the bruise that was slowly forming on her upper arm. Cora pushed her away a little, frowning.

“What is this?” She requested, and Regina eyed her arm. She didn’t really have to say it—it was self-explanatory—but she did it anyway, because her mother had requested it of her.

“The King; he was not happy I asked him to give me the courtesy of a personal escort.” Regina answered meekly, not meeting her mother’s eyes. Cora huffed and took a hold of Regina’s chin. Eyes met hers and felt herself being scanned. She did not hold back her emotions, and allowed her eyes to tell the tale of her misery.

“Did he strike you?” Cora asked, and Regina shook her head, adding a verbal ‘no’ after a moment. Cora relaxed, smiling as if everything Leopold _had_ done to her did not matter, as if her bruised arm and aching sex did not matter, as if her pain in general did not. 

“Good. Then he won’t in the future either.” Cora concluded, and Regina nodded numbly, although she wasn’t sure if that was true. She resigned to her mother’s will, and resolved to worry quietly about what would happen when her mother left. For now, she was indeed safe—if what had just transpired could be classified as ‘safe’. Cora’s hands continued their course down Regina’s arms, and she took her hands. She pressed them together in front of Regina’s body, and brought them up to kiss the fingers lightly. Regina watched her, her mind and body still too close to her fight-or-flight instincts to do anything else. She watched as Cora peppered a string of kisses over her knuckles, and then straightened again, one hand coming up to take a light hold on her daughter’s cheek.

“It will get better.” Cora promised her, and Regina latched on to the sympathy she found in her mother’s voice. “You just have to give it time. You will come to find it worth it, and once he is fully under your control, you can withhold from him until he gives you the pleasure you deserve.”

“I just wanted it to be over...” Her confession fell from her mouth without conscious thought, and she met her mother’s eyes in horror. Thankfully, Cora only smiled understandingly. 

“That too will pass. You did very well tonight, my dear. You had him begging you for release. That is a wonderful first step. Your father was a proud man when we married; it took him many more times before he would beg me.” Cora confided in her, and Regina felt her stomach turn anew. Beyond her obvious discomfort, through, there was pride at exceeding her mother’s expectations. She forced herself to believe Cora’s words and sighed, feeling the weight of the night bear down on her. She was so tired, and she longed to be clean. Another part of her, however, wanted entirely different things. 

“Thank you, mother...” She answered the compliment paid to her, hearing her voice crack with emotions that were still far too close to the surface. She was trembling, still, and she found herself unable to pinpoint her mental state. One thing she knew for sure, though. 

“I will always try to do you proud.” 

Her promise was met with a smile and a second hand that clasped her face gently. Regina sighed into the gesture and lifted her hands to lay them lightly on her mother’s wrists, running her thumbs over her skin. They stared at each other a long moment and Regina found something inside of her coil; the remnants of pleasure that Leopold had managed to provide. She remembered the desire in Cora’s eyes the night before, and the feeling of her own climax. She remembered the quiet that had befallen her mind then.

“I know you will, my dear.” Cora answered her easily, and eyes once more sought hers. She knew she could not hide her desire for relief, for love, for comfort, so she didn’t try to. Her breath stocked in her throat as she was pulled forward into a kiss that went from soft and gentle to passionate in the span of a few passes of lips and tongue. She did not want to, but she drowned in the sensation, regardless. She revelled in the difference between her mother’s kiss and Leopold’s, and in the way her body reacted to her mother where it did not to her husband. Without conscious thought, her hands slid up Cora’s arms and over her hair, searching for clasps and hair pins.

“Please...” She panted into the minimal space between their lips, aware of the loaded meaning behind the word, and Cora withdrew, expertly undoing the elaborate way her hair had been done up. Pins fell to the floor as strand after strand became undone and toppled down. Regina found her heart beating heavily in her chest, thoughts of Leopold fading to the background as she gratefully lost herself in her mother’s indulgence of her desires. 

It didn’t take Cora long to fully shake out her hair, and once she did, there was no misinterpreting the look that Regina got from her. Licking her lips, she rushed forward and claimed her mother’s lips again, pressing her tongue against them and feeling them part. A rush of desire settled between her legs, and she sobbed into the kiss. This was how it was supposed to feel. This was what she needed. It was wrong, and it was dirty, but not as wrong and dirty as her husband made her feel. 

Cora overtook her easily, pressing her backwards until her back hit the door. The air in her lungs was dispelled with the force of the impact and she groaned, unwilling to let go of her mother’s hair to catch herself. Even now, it had become a symbol; part of the privilege of having this intimate moment with her mother. Just like the little girl had felt most loved when Cora had let her play with her hair, Regina now felt most loved as her mother pressed into her body, hands rushing to cover her sides and hips, and Regina’s hands were wrapped in long locks. Shuddering, Regina wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and boldly pulled her closer. She was beginning to lose her fear of Cora—at least while they were this close. She seemed so willing to provide Regina with what she desired, it was so easy to forget everything and drown in this.

Cora’s strong tongue overcame her own and she let it, submissively clinging to her mother as her body flared to life, remembering the pleasure it her managed to squeeze out of her encounter with Leopold and using it as a launching pad for the rest of her desires. It was so tempting to find love here, to forget and just get the pleasure her husband’s touch never gave. She was not as optimistic about the future as her mother, but she had this, this instinctual and all-consuming desire that coursed through her whenever her mother allowed it. 

Regina had wanted to experience this again for six days now, and yet her mother had barely talked to her, let alone touched her. It had been suffocating. Having Cora here, now, was like air to starved lungs and Regina could not resist it. She needed it, even more so when Cora roughly palmed her breast and squeezed. All trepidation and restraint seemed to have been left behind in the bed they had shared together; Cora was all open-mouthed kisses and rough touches to a hyper-sensitized frame that was very willing to allow for it. 

“Yes...” Regina hissed as her head fell back, and Cora’s mouth latched onto her throat, swirling her tongue over strong tendons and sucking lightly on her skin as one arm wrapped around Regina’s waist to pull her closer. The hand of the other still manipulated her breast through the thick fabric of her dress. Moaning deeply, Regina fisted her mother’s hair again—careful not to apply too much pressure—and let herself drown.

“You were so beautiful on that bed, my dear...” Cora whispered roughly against her ear. The words made her freeze for a moment as she remembered, but she fought to push the thoughts aside, holding on solely to the compliment Cora paid her. 

“Thank you...?” Regina murmured, finding herself unable to fully commit to the words. Cora pulled back right away, and slid her hand from Regina’s breast to her chin, taking a rough hold as her anger flared. Regina’s eyes widened.

“I have told you before, Regina, own your beauty and your sexuality. If I choose to compliment you on either, you properly thank me. I am not only your mother, but a Queen, and one of this land’s greatest sorceresses. You will show me the respect I deserve, do you understand? Because I will take this pleasure away from you Regina—I will. In the blink of an eye, if that is what it takes.” Cora hissed, their faces close enough for huffs of breath to hit Regina’s sensitive skin. She shuddered as fear and desperation spiked.

“I’m sorry, mother. Please. I did not mean you disrespect. Please, it just... did not feel beautiful and it’s hard for me to believe you did find it so.” She rushed to explain, letting her hands drop down her sides instinctively. Cora searched her eyes again, the anger still engraved in her features, and Regina felt tears spilling from her eyes without even the possibility of halting them. Too much had happened tonight—this week—for her to be in control of herself. Moments ticked by as the hold on her chin became uncomfortable, then the hand fell away and Cora straightened a little.

“Alright, I forgive you for your insolence, but just this once. Do not let it happen again; I will not stand for it.” Cora pressed, and Regina nodded vehemently.

“Yes mother, thank you. Thank you.” She rushed, sagging against the door in relief. Cora nodded, and tilted Regina’s chin up—lightly this time. She examined her features, and then locked their eyes.

“You _were_ very beautiful on that bed.” She repeated. “I watched you as you controlled Leopold, as you dominated over your lovemaking. Leopold is a weak man, Regina, but it still takes the skill of a temptress to manipulate a man into doing anything. One day, you will learn all there is to know about pleasing a man, and you will enjoy his touch upon you. Leopold can be that man for you, if you allow him. Until then, you may never show him how much you want him dead. Ah, surprised I saw that, are you? You forget how well I know you, my dear. You are your mother’s child, after all. Yes, I could see the desire to end his life right there in that bed plainly in your eyes. Don’t cry, Regina, it’s alright. One day, you will learn how to take his heart for yourself; one day, you will get up the courage to squeeze it into dust and end his miserable existence. Until that time, you may think about it, but he can never know. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Regina answered her mother’s horrifying proposal, but could not shake the feeling of Leopold inside of her, the need to dig nails into his throat, to plunge a dagger into his chest. Cora’s veiled proposal for lessons in magic gave her such a thrill that she forgot to be aghast at her not-so-veiled suggestion she kill her husband to stop the abuse he wrought on her body. She did not want to think about this now, did not want to consider the implications of the fact that she even indulged herself this much leeway on a path that lead to murder. She shuddered, and softened her eyes, hoping that her mother would let the topic go. She couldn’t deal with it right now, not when she was so tired... and so in need.

Cora sighed and nodded, obviously not completely pleased with Regina’s behaviour, but she stepped away only a little, regardless, creating just enough space between their bodies to tug at the strings that held up Regina’s dress. Regina let her, grateful that she had not messed everything up by acting so foolishly; grateful she would still get her release. She fought her mind when it wondered why her mother was letting get away with so much, because for the second time tonight, her dress pooled around her ankles, and this time Regina relished the gaze that landed upon her.

“Part your legs, dear.” Cora instructed, and Regina did as asked, her mind warring with her shame and desire in equal measures as Cora’s hand pressed lightly atop her sex, and then dipped a finger between her folds. 

“Is it you or him that I feel, Regina?” Cora asked, amusement lacing her words as she rubbed the length of her folds slowly. 

“I-I don’t know.” Regina answered honestly, shuddering in a mixture of pain and pleasure that the light touches upon sensitive skin fostered in her. She knew her thighs were stained with Leopold’s semen—she had felt it run down her legs in slow trickles that made her ill—but her mother had done much to inspire wetness of her own already.

“Let’s see, hmm?” Cora suggested, and Regina’s eyes widened as her mother sank to her knees in front of her, kneeling between her legs as she steadied herself by gripping on to Regina’s thighs. It took Regina’s mind long moments to wrap around what was about to happen, but when her mother leaned in to the side of her leg, realization dawned on her.

“Mother no! Please!” She choked out, and gasped at the nails that dug into her legs painfully as a reprimand. Cora’s eyes flashed dangerously. Regina wanted to explain how dirty she felt, how much dirtier her mother lapping her husband’s fluids off of her leg would make her feel, how degrading it would be because it reminded her of him inside of her—but she was too afraid. Worse, she was too aroused. Squeezing her eyes shut a moment and feeling tears spill from them, Regina surrendered to her mother’s wishes—like Cora obviously knew she would. Right away, her body relaxed and the hands that had balled into fists at her sides unclenched.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, eyes opening and sliding down to Cora’s—Cora, who smiled darkly and pressed forward again as her nails pulled from soft flesh. Regina gasped and felt her thighs quiver as a soft tongue connected with the flesh of her upper thigh and the wetness found upon it. It shouldn’t sent a shiver down her spine to watch her mother lick her skin, it shouldn’t cause wetness to pool in her core to realize what—exactly—her mother tasted as her tongue slid back into her mouth after a long stroke, and most of all, it should not make her want to wrap her hands in her mother’s hair to have her take the mixture straight from her sex as Cora moaned deliciously in the back of her throat—but it did. Regina wanted to scream at her own desire, at the depth of her depravity, but instead, she parted her legs wider as Cora lapped the length of the stain on her other thigh, and she wound her hands into her mother’s hair, making sure she could still see her mouth, her eyes, as she bit down gently on the flesh found under her mouth.

The contrast between the first time Cora had touched her and today was day and night; gone were the languid kisses, the sure but reassuring touches. The light of that encounter had been sucked out of this one, where Cora instinctively knew that Regina’s pleasure was found in defilement, not reassurance. In indulgence, not wonder. Instinctively, Regina knew that she was being pulled down to a level where Cora found her pleasure, and strangely, the thought settled her—she was not alone in her desires. Cora offered her love and she accepted it on a level that went beyond her intellect. She was starved for affection—any affection—and watching her mother’s heated gaze settle upon her own as she reached up with her mouth to press strong lips against saturated flesh satisfied that hunger. 

With a strangled gasp, her grip on her mother’s hair intensified, and as a strong tongue pressed upwards between her stained lips, she could not resist the urge to force her mother harder against her, earning her a moan that reverberated through her sensitive flesh. Regina almost felt her legs give out at that.

“Oh... mother...” She breathed, voice breaking, and pressed her hips forward, trapping her mother’s head between her hands and body as a talented tongue brought soothing pleasure to her abused flesh. As lips found her clitoris, she bucked wildly, causing Cora’s nails to press sharply into her leg as a warning. She lightened her hold but lost herself in sensations again soon after, drowning in the feel of a tongue lapping, lips pinching, wet sucks resounding, and dark eyes that never wavered from hers as her mother loved her body. It was wrong, and dirty, but it was love and Regina needed it more than the air she was also lacking.

Cora’s mouth caused wildfire pleasure to course through her body, and she could almost forget what had happened to her body previously; she could almost forget how wrong this was. _Almost_. She wanted to forget so badly, wanted to stop resisting the desires she thought she had already accepted. Her mother seemed to sense her restraint, seemed to sense how she held back her moans, tried to keep her body still. Unlike the first time, Regina was not innocent; her need was real and she could not hide from it, despite trying to. Her mother’s eyes tore right through her feeble walls, and as her body went into overdrive on sensations, Regina felt tears fall down her cheeks. 

When her mother’s mouth tore away from her, she groaned at the loss, feeling it as a physical pain between her legs and in her heart.

“My dear, why these tears?” Cora asked gently, but the edge of danger shook Regina wide awake. She tried to fight her tears, but failed. As her mother’s hand slowly rubbed the outside of her leg, drawing comforting circles on sensitive skin, they only became more pressing.

“I-I... I should not want this...” She admitted, knowing that despite risking her mother’s retribution, she should speak the truth, because her mother would know—Cora always knew.

“But you do.” Cora answered her, still not moving beyond a gently dip to press lips against the flesh of her pelvis a moment. Regina tried to fight herself—and most of all tried to fight the shot of arousal that came with observing the glistening wetness coating Cora’s mouth and chin—as she felt more and more of her innocence give way under her mother’s knowing gaze. She swallowed—heavily—and nodded.

“Yes... I do.” She agreed, finally, heartbrokenly, and was rewarded with her body’s full surrender to her desire, a desire that dumbed her to the point where she got lost in the throbbing between her legs and the sight of her mother so close to where she needed to be touched. Her tears slowly dried as the darkness overtook her. Another bridge had been crossed and burned, and more innocence forever lost. 

“Then tell me what you need, Regina. Use your words. Claim what you want.” Cora’s voice was fierce now, pressing and low. _Give in_ , her eyes instilled upon Regina, and Regina wanted to so badly. The underlying layer of dark need that coated her mother’s words was intoxicating, and it made Regina’s thighs quiver even more than they were already doing because of her body’s weight, resting on legs rapidly losing their strength now the full scope of her arousal bore down on her. Hooded eyes could not tear away from her mother, kneeling still fully clothed between her legs. Regina couldn’t shake the thought of her wetness, mingling with Leopold’s come, now coating her mother’s lips and chin. It should repulse her. It should make her disgusted with her mother—with herself—but it didn’t. Oh Gods forgive her, but it didn’t.

“I need you inside of me.” She finally admitted, her voice thick with emotion and arousal. 

“You were penetrated not a quarter hour ago, Regina. It did not make you climax then...” Cora pushed, and Regina knew the answer to the implied question. She knew what her mother wanted her to say. As Cora’s fingers travelled up her leg and slid into her arousal, Regina’s shaking hand reached down to cup her mother’s chin and cheek. Cora’s eyes feasted on her need, her desire, and her immanent surrender. Regina ran her thumb through tainted wetness, and gave her mother what she needed. With a tremor to her voice, she let her head fall back against the door, never breaking eye contact.

“He wasn’t you, mother.”

Her reward was immediate, and infinitely fulfilling. Cora pushed first one, then two fingers deep inside of her, and Regina sobbed in bliss, surrendering to the darkness. Oh how different this was from the first time, from that night in her mother’s bed. Had she ever been that innocent—innocent enough to not realize where her mother was leading her? It hurt, her walls sore and resisting, but it was worth it because of the amount of pleasure that flooded her system at the deep touches of her mother’s fingers. 

It was nothing like the first time. Where Cora had been gentle with her then—her true goal hidden by the pretence of a lesson—Cora made no such pretences now. Instead, her eager tongue returned to Regina’s painfully throbbing clit and she lapped at it in time with the powerful thrusts that racked her body and reduced Regina to a quivering mess within the span of minutes. The hands that had wound into her mother’s hair at her penetration helped to keep her upright as she felt her strength leave her legs, leaning heavily against the door until that, too, was no longer enough.

Feeling herself slip, Regina was surprised by a strong arm that came up around her waist as her mother stood, only slowing the motions of her hand a moment before resuming a pace Regina hadn’t even managed to work up to with Leopold. Regina did not think as her mother’s mouth crushed against hers, her Cora’s body pressing into her to keep her upright as Regina lapped at the wetness supplied to her. 

She tasted almost solely herself, but deep down there was a taste she remembered quite well—salty and lingering—and she simultaneously choked back her gag reflex and grinded down on the fingers inside of her as disgust and arousal warred inside of her. She had lost all sense of a moral compass now, her mind short-circuiting in the face of a desire so great that it set her entire body on fire. No longer did she worry about her composure, about her decency—she only cared about her mother’s tongue filling her mouth, her arm wrapping protectively around her back, and the fingers that forced inside of her again and again, aided by a strong thigh pressed against the back of Cora’s hand. Love, poured into physical form, and making her feel so very good— _finally_.

Her mother’s breathing was shallow now, but not as shallow as her own. They kissed wet and sloppily, Cora’s teeth and lips capturing her tongue at every bold pass Regina dared to make. She did not want this to end, but her over-stimulated body would not be able to take much more. She could already feel herself gripping the fingers inside of her, clenching around the digits making her feel so, so good. She could only moan now, and cry out into her mother’s mouth as she held on to her shoulders for dear life. Despite Cora’s fingers speeding up, their kisses slowed as they savoured each desperate slide of tongue, each heat filled bite, and each moan that spilled from both sets of lips—Regina’s more freely and frequently, but Cora’s emerging all the same. Every time Regina caught the sound, she felt her walls clench around strong fingers and her arousal skyrocketed.

When Cora broke the kiss, Regina buried her head into her mother’s neck and her mother’s arm slid up from her back to her head, holding her close as Cora whispered gently in her daughter’s ear. She never gave up the roughness of her thrusts, but blanketed Regina lovingly regardless, stroking her hair as her daughter shivered, panted, and moaned into the crook of her neck. Regina felt safe and loved, and _good_ , and without conscious thought, she pressed light kisses on her mother’s soft skin, inhaling her scent deeply into her lungs as her body stopped resisting the orgasm that had pressed at her self-control for long minutes now. High off of her mother’s love, she finally gave in completely.

She came in aspirated shudders, listening to her mother tell her she was beautiful, that she was proud of her, that she had done so very well tonight, and by the time her mother’s hand stilled, Regina was silently crying into her mother’s neck, holding on to her as her heart swelled in the joy of knowing she was—indeed—loved. Her body felt light, and her mind blanked entirely in the face of her bliss. This was perfection, and Regina wished she could capture this moment and preserve it forever. 

Of course, the moment did not last. Before long, Cora stirred, sliding her fingers out of her—now even more sensitive—body, and Regina quickly pulled herself upright. Her legs still did not want to carry her, but with the door for support, she managed it. Cora stepped back, and smiled gently at her—gently but with the knowledge of Regina’s extended limits clearly in her eyes. Regina knew she would hate herself for this once her bliss wore off, but for now, she watched Cora inspect her fingers a moment before she brought them to her lips to lap at the wetness that clung to them, not waiting until she was alone this time. With shallow breath and wide eyes, Regina watched her. 

She watched as Cora took her time savouring the taste of her, and was shocked at how much the sight aroused her. She should be sated, should have her cravings put to rest... but instead, she wanted more—wanted what her mother had already denied her once. Shyly, she straightened and stepped into her mother’s space, meeting her mother’s eyes in what she hoped was an appealing way. Her hand reached out tentatively, coming to rest on her mother’s chest, the back of her fingers stroking uncovered skin. Cora dropped her hand from her mouth and smirked, observing her daughter, who gathered her courage.

“Mother...?” She asked, and Cora hummed, arching an eyebrow. Regina traced her hand down to the edge of Cora’s dress, feeling the swell of her mother’s breast under her fingertips. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest as she took a deep breath. She was suddenly painfully aware of her limited eighteen years of life, and felt so inexperienced at something she wanted so much.

“May I please touch you in return...?” Regina finally whispered, pressing herself a little closer to her mother’s rigid frame, hoping the same move that had worked on Leopold would work on her mother. She should not have been so stupid. Cora’s smile widened into a grin that had Regina’s heart plummet. Her high crashed as her mother threw her head back and laughed a full, amused, laugh.

“Oh, Regina. You are adorable!” Cora articulated, and Regina felt a blush rising to her cheeks. She dropped her hand and shivered at the sudden cold that overtook her naked body. Tears pricked at her eyes as Cora stepped away from her after patting her cheek lightly.

“I do not need _your_ touch, my dear child. I am not a husband to seduce. Is that what you think we are?” She added lightly, her voice chipper as it ripped Regina’s heart to shreds. Regina flinched, wrapping her arms around her midriff subconsciously, hoping to comfort herself as she felt herself becoming smaller and smaller in her mother’s presence. The loving high she had been feeling cracked and crumbled into dust, and her eyes fell to the floor at her feet.

Of course her mother did not want her touch. Of course this was still a lesson, a way to teach her how to control her husband—partly a reward, partly a way to inspire her to accept more from her husband the next time. Soon, her mother would leave and whatever this short reprieve of her torment had been, would end. This was not a fairytale of requited love and happiness; once more Regina was reminded of the level of _wrong_ this was, despite her mother’s thin facade of a lesson. She had _seen_ her mother’s desire, she knew she was not alone in this, but the knowledge of that did not give her any comfort. She would never be allowed to satisfy that desire—she was not good enough for her mother, and she never would be. She was not a partner, she was a child and Cora would never see her otherwise, despite using her body like a woman’s.

“I’m sorry, mother.” She forced from between her lips as she fought the urge to cover her nakedness. Still, her knees—and thighs—trembled when her mother’s dark eyes fell on her again. Cora had retrieved Regina’s robe from her wardrobe and sniffed it lightly before stepping back into Regina’s personal space—space she did not have around her mother, because her body betrayed her. A hitched breath as their eyes met, a blush that made her cheeks flare—her mother’s presence drew her in.

“You should clean yourself, my dear.” Cora answered her lightly, ignoring her actual words of Regina’s apology as she wrapped the cloak around her daughter’s shoulders, and Regina pulled it tight around her, relishing the warmth and protection it offered.

“I will.” She promised in a whisper as Cora did not move away, fussing with the robe a moment until it settled easily over Regina’s form. Fully aware of what would happen, Regina seized the moment, regardless. She pressed forward into a rough press of lips that had her heart soar and her walls clench. A final stolen moment of closeness that was avenged with a hard strike across her cheek—hard enough to make her crumple down to the rug, hair pins digging into her thigh. 

It was worth it.

“Insolent child!” Cora spat, but when Regina’s wide eyes fell upon her, Regina could see a flicker of desire and—dare she say—intrigue flash over mother’s features before the mask came up and Cora was just looming over her, dark and dangerous. When Regina trembled now, it was not with pleasure. 

“I should end you where you cower.” Cora huffed, and Regina flinched back as her hand came up as if to strike her again—or worse, instil her lesson with magic. Bringing an arm up to protect her face from another impact, Regina crumpled further into herself, heart beating in her chest at the memory of childhood punishments. Her cowardness seemed to placate her mother, however, who lowered her arm and merely looked down at her with such darkness that Regina wished she had hit her instead. 

Regina knew she should apologize, that she should try to make it all right, but she was too tired, too conflicted, too broken to find the words that would fix this situation. Her head was spinning now at the ramifications of the night, and the acid that had settled heavily in her gut spread and solidified into stone. This was a lesson, and she should regard it as such. Anything else—like that pang of dangerous closeness that had overtaken her as she had been cradled into her mother’s neck—needed to be pushed aside if she wanted to keep her sanity. Her mother’s lessons were paying off; the walls around her heart hardened in light of her desire to be loved and the rejection that would undoubtedly cause. 

Seconds ticked by as neither spoke, nor moved. It was Cora who eventually sighed and broke the tension between them as she stepped back a little. This encounter had left her mother more affected than Cora wanted to admit, Regina suddenly realized, and she could feel her heart starting to race anew. Cora set her jaw, then turned sharply on her heels, walking to the vanity where she reached for the brush to comb her hair into a presentable do, but there was a minute tremble to her hand. Cora did not look at her when she addressed her.

“Get up, Regina. I tire of you.”

“Mother...” Regina started tearfully as she heavily pushed herself to her feet, feeling her legs protest. Cora cut her off with a look that spelled death if she should attempt to speak again. Regina swallowed and fell silent. A second passed, two, and then Cora put the brush down as she straightened herself out. The Queen was back, and so Regina summoned her inner Queen as well—or whatever poor excuse for a Queen she was. She reigned in her emotions, squared her shoulders into the posture her mother preferred for her daughter, and lightly clasped her hands in front of her body.

“I shall return to my rooms now, my child.” Cora announced, and Regina nodded as if she was receiving her mother in the grand hall and not speaking to her after her fingers had been knuckle deep inside of her wanton body.

“Of course, mother.” She answered lightly, voice void of emotions and perfectly submissive. Cora set her jaw even harder and nodded in return. They had done this dance for six days now, and although it felt like her heart was breaking all over again, Regina could do it if it meant that one day, she would have another _moment_ with her mother to cling to.

“Good night, dear.” Cora spoke as she headed for the door, opening it with the hand that Regina knew would smell like her. It was a thought impossible to dismiss, and it made it so hard not to run to her mother and fall at her feet, to beg for the forgiveness she should have begged for before, to beg her to stay and forget everything outside these walls. Instead, she reigned in the craving child, and took a strengthening breath.

“Good night, mother.” She answered instead of the emotional vomit that threatened her as her mind screamed in agony. One last look that singed Regina to the core and Cora was gone. Once the door closed, Regina exhaled loudly and felt tears once more returning to her eyes. Her heart felt broken and dark in her chest, her body like an enemy. Ruefully, she crossed the room and rung the chord that would make a bell go off in the kitchens below. 

Someone would be up soon to take her order for hot water for a bath—it was probably already prepared since the guards knew she had been with her husband. Soon, she would clean herself and change into a soft nightgown that would settle her body. She would sleep and be oblivious until the new day presented itself. Everything would be easier in the light of a new day. Until that time, though, Regina already knew she would long for her mother’s arm around her as she slept, for the scent of the woman who could only love her with pain, and the tongue that she now knew could dance so deliciously over her soaked folds. She hated herself for wanting it—for wanting more—and once more cursed the prison she was in, and the husband she was supposed to share her body with. 

Her mother’s words about magic lessons and her husband’s early demise played through her mind against her wishes, and she had to admit she hated the sound of them less and less as she collected her dress from the floor and disposed of it in the laundry basket, her body aching, and her thoughts tumbling. One way or the other, this would all stop. One day, she would be free—and if that meant claiming the darkness her mother offered her, she would—she had to. She needed to steel herself and get through it all; learn magic, gain her freedom, and then... she couldn’t think that far ahead. She thought of Daniel’s lifeless body preserved in secret, of her mother’s fingers coursing down her skin, of Snow’s tear-filled eyes as she had banished her from the kitchen, of Leopold’s face as he came inside of her. This was her life now, and she was caught between these people like a ragdoll, all of them owning her in some way. Well, no more. No more aching heart and childhood dreams. She was the Queen, and one day, they would all bow before her or suffer the consequences. One day, she would make them _all_ pay, and until that day came, she would bleed and keep her tally.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the updated tags! This chapter features Leopold and Regina, Black Queen, Golden Heart, and Golden Queen, the latter three mixing and matching in pretty much every way. As always, this chapter is so beyond suitable for work, it isn't even funny. Enjoy, and if you did, let me know? Written to HAIM's 'Let Me Go'. There will now be six chapters in total.

Her mother had been right, of course: having sex with Leopold became easier now she was aware and in control of her own sexuality. She never denied him the pleasure—such thoughts would be foolish—but she did rule over their encounters. He would come to her door and knock somewhat shyly, request her presence in his bed and she would tell him she would come to him soon, after preparing for him. He almost always accepted the delay and so Regina found herself hurriedly dressing for the encounter before taking the time to properly warm her body up. She would think about her mother mouth as she toyed with her nipples, and about her fingers when she filled herself. Sometimes she thought about a mature version of Snow, wide-eyed and panting, sliding her tongue through Regina's ample wetness. She would work herself to the brink of orgasm, then meet Leopold for a rough and quick encounter that he seemed to relish.

She still had to fight her murderous disgust when he forced himself inside of her, but the pain had lessened severely with her new strategy. Not even looking upon his loathsome features could quench her desire completely, and she allowed herself the privilege of closing her eyes more and more often.

The longer her mother was away, the easier it became to manipulate Leopold into not only taking pleasure for himself but providing it in return. Regina lost her shyness in light of her own sexual frustration and burning desire, and there was something intoxicatingly powerful in forcing Leopold's head between her legs and getting him to lap at her folds until her breathing laboured and her thighs quaked. He had resisted at first, but now he relished the reward too much: if he brought her to the edge like this, she let him fuck her the rest of the way... and when Regina got close to the edge, her desire to murder her husband transmuted into passionate scratches on the hairy skin of his back, into heated kisses that he was given permission to control, and the passionate gripping of his cock by her walls as she clenched around it, thundering into orgasm and taking her husband with her. He did not love her, and she hated him, but sex got easier the more Regina allowed herself to rule over the King in the bedroom—she took the physical pleasure she was entitled to, and all the while, she kept her tally. Every offense against her, every word of pain where he chose Snow White over his own wife, every dismissive gesture and every time she left the bedroom with stained thighs—doubly so if her desires had remained unfulfilled. 

There was someone else whose tally was getting longer, someone else who slid deeper and deeper into the red: virginal Snow White, whose ledger had already been dripping with blood for her part in Daniel's death—poor Daniel who was waiting for her to bring him back from the dead. Snow's tally dripped with small offenses against her—directly or indirectly; being spoiled by her father, being allowed outings Regina never was, and every single time Snow called her 'mother', because it reminded her of Daniel—the price Snow White had been willing to pay if it meant replacing her deceased mother in her life. Every time Snow White moaned innocently while Regina brushed her hair, Regina added it to the tally, cursing the way it made her head drum up images of pleasure-filled touches that would have the same effect. 

Her main tally, however, remained her husband, and even as sweat dripped down between the valley of her breasts as her orgasm overtook her, she still wished she could clear his ledger tonight—right now. She wished she could stop him from filling her with his pleasure, from sagging on top of her with a grunt, and pinning her body to the soft mattress. She resigned herself to the fact that she couldn’t, however, and waited patiently until Leopold got a proper hold of himself again, rolling off of her with a sigh. She remained on her back for long moments, getting control of her breathing as she waited for the clenching of her sex to wane as the stimulation to it fell away. When she felt strong enough to sit up, she did, sliding herself to the edge of the bed without looking at her husband, fearful he would see either murder or sorrow in her eyes.

"Don't leave..."

The words were spoken softly, and with such an amount of vulnerability that Regina once more felt her emotions flutter. By now, sleeping with Leopold left her feeling dead inside, but this—this break-down—was enough to provide her with a strong jolt of power, and a deep sense of hatred and loathing. She turned to the man on the bed slowly, amused when she found he had covered up his genitals with a corner of the blankets, as if he had not just defiled her—again. She owned her nakedness now, no longer ashamed to bare herself to him: he _should_ be the one to feel shame.

“What was that, my King?” She asked innocently, not allowing her dark excitement to cloud her voice as she smiled. Leopold slowly laid eyes on her, and sighed. When he spoke again, he sounded like a King; in control and making demands, but she could read his body well, and there was no such certainty in it now.

“I said to stay in my bed tonight.” He spoke clearly, and she smirked, dropping her head to hide said smirk from her husband. In the perfect picture of modesty, she regarded him through her tumbling locks of hair and regarded her options. She could refuse him his request—a request that although well within his right to make, made her want to run the other way—but she could also make use of the weakness she was instilling in her husband with every one of these encounters. The latter sounded like a far better option, despite the prospect of having to rest in this bed tonight.

She turned around on the bed, crawling towards her husband on her hands and knees, flaunting her forming body and drawing his eyes to her chest, her hips, her eyes. Settling over him, she lowered herself into his arms and shivered with anger and disgust as his arms came up around her. By the way he pulled her a little tighter, he misread her body’s reaction as positive. Regina fought the way her hands threatened to turn into claws on his chest. Instead, she ran her fingers through the clammy curls on his chest as she settled into him, the blanket between her legs to soak up the spillage from between her thighs. She hated that feeling. She hated it beyond anything he did to her.

“Of course I would spent more time with my King,” she forced herself to say, then went in for the return on her investment: a temporary escape. “In fact, I was thinking… tomorrow, perhaps, you would enjoy taking me for a ride to the lake? A picnic perhaps?”

He hummed glumly, sliding a hand into her hair and running his fingers through the strands carefully, teasing out tangles and knots. He was so relaxed under her, unaware of the serpent she was—the poison she slowly trickled into his veins. He didn’t know about the darkness; all he saw was his daughters saviour, his willing lover. Her mother had left for home weeks ago, and Leopold… well… he had all but sent her a gift basket for her services in getting Regina to become a willing participant in their couplings. All that time, and he had never asked her ‘why’.

“I can’t, Regina. I leave at dawn for a long trip to another Kingdom. I expect you to care for Snow in my absence, yes?” Leopold spoke dismissively, and Regina swallowed against her anger.

“Anything you wish.” She said through her gritted teeth, feeling more and more trapped by the moment. She fought the rising panic, the tension in her body and heart, and sweetened her voice—again. “…but perhaps, my King, you would instruct one of your trusted men to escort me to the lake? I would so love to look upon the water again…”

He mulled it over a moment, sighing as he scratched her scalp with stubby nails as Regina waited with bated breath, wondering if she should… remind him of what she was paying for this chance at freedom by sliding her hand down his body. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, unable to risk another bout of lovemaking when she was already sore and tense. Cuddling with the man she despised was about all she could handle—and even that she barely got through.

“Fine. Now go and clean up so we can sleep.” Leopold finally agreed, and Regina’s heart skipped a beat. Swallowing heavily, she fought not to show her excitement, to not show how much that one word had affected her. Since marrying the King, she had hardly been outside of the palace, and when she had, it had been with her husband and a band of guests. Now she had her freedom—even if it was under close guard—within her grasp, she didn’t know quite how to respond to it. All she knew was that it was Cora who had bought it for her—her mother’s lessons were paying off in deadening her heart and aiding her in seizing control of her own needs. Her methods might be unorthodox, but they were working, and they showed her mother’s love for her.

“Thank you.” She said softly, and reared up to press a kiss on his lips before sliding off of the bed with barely contained glee. She felt like a child again, looking towards the promise of something good on the horizon. Her soiled thighs and the pain hardly dampened her spirits, and as she waited for the water for her bath to be delivered, she found herself positively vibrating. Her mother had been right: with her body and what it could provide for her husband, she could buy her freedom. For once, she didn’t turf an encounter with him in her ledger, opting instead to file this one under ‘repaid’, even if it cost her a night in his arms.

By the time she returned from her outing the following day, Regina felt like a renewed person. There was a smile firmly etched onto her face, a blush on her cheeks, and even though it had been cold out and the three men who had accompanied her had been surly and quiet, she had still felt like a human being again—finally. It had been so long since she had felt like that. Returning to the palace was hard to do, and Regina would be lying if she said she had not considered a desperate attempt to get away, but she returned because she knew Leopold would not be there to make demands of her. It was such a relief that she forgot herself as she hurried inside the palace’s walls, pulling off her riding gloves and rushing along the hallways until a very familiar voice fell upon her.

“A Queen does not rush, Regina. Temper yourself.” Cora’s reprimand lashed at her, and Regina spun around in such a hurry she almost lost her footing. Her mother—beautifully decked out in an emerald green velvet dress with an expensive diamond trim, her hair done up to immaculate perfection—seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but realizing where she was, Regina knew Cora had taken up her familiar guestrooms.

“Mother!” She squeaked, unaware of how to act—how to sound—as her life was turned up-side-down again. She went from elation and relief to worry and doubt, racking her brain to discover if she had forgotten an appointment with the older brunette or if she had perhaps done something wrong. “I-I did not know you were set to arrive. I’m sorry, I would have been here if you had sent me advanced warning.”

“I heard your husband had left you all alone in this large palace, my dear. I also heard he allowed you an outing. I assume it was your idea?” Cora replied sweetly, in such a way that it made Regina shudder—and not pleasantly so. Her mother was here for a reason—a good reason—and despite Regina’s gratitude towards her, she also knew Cora was not to be trusted. She may be the greatest source of her pleasure and her love, but Cora was also her greatest weakness; the woman she would do anything for.

“It was.” She replied braver than she felt. Cora smiled merrily, sliding forward over the cold tiles until she could take a light hold of Regina’s upper arms and lean in for two kisses, one on each of Regina’s cheeks. The scent of her mother’s perfume brought back memories of events that had started to sink to the background, which had become the baseline but no longer the captors of her every thought. Right away, however, Regina could feel their hold intensifying again as with the scent of her mother’s perfume came the sound of her mother’s moans and the vision of her on her knees between Regina’s legs. She shivered into the kisses and when her mother withdrew, she found herself untethered.

“Well done, my dear. I take it affairs between your husband and you are well, then?” Cora asked in an undertone, making sure not to be overhead by anyone as one hand fell away from Regina’s arm and the hold on the other intensified. Regina winced lightly at the touch but allowed her mother to escort her into the guestrooms, regardless, waiting until the door closed behind them before answering, trying to wipe the startled expression from her face.

“I-They… yes. Yes, they are. We… he’s—”

“Regina! Think before you speak and use full sentences, or do not speak at all. I do not suffer fools lightly.” Cora chastised, letting go of her and stepping away, walking slowly towards the balcony and allowing Regina a moment of relative tranquillity to catch her breath and gather her thoughts.

“I apologize, mother. Yes, I have been giving myself freely to the King, and in return, he has given me both pleasure and freedom.” She finally formulated, and Cora graced her with an over-the-shoulder smile that conveyed she was quite pleased with the words.

“Good, and are you enjoying your couplings?” Cora proceeded to ask, and the warning was clear in her voice this time. Regina took her time answering, stepping away from the door a little and waiting on the rug, trying to keep her eyes off of the bed she had so many memories of—the bed she may or may not have occupied a few nights in the last couple of weeks because she had missed her mother so. 

“I have come to appreciate the couplings, yes.” She answered truthfully, even though the full answer was a resounding ‘no’. Cora chuckled and turned around. Backlit by pale sunlight, Regina wanted nothing more than to sink into her mother’s arms and be safe while doing it. She knew, though, that she was not allowed the first and even if she were, she would not be granted the second.

“That is good to hear, Regina. Very good. Now, we do not have much time, so I have taken the liberty of instructing the kitchen staff to prepare a small feast for tonight. You are having a guest over, my dear; an old friend of mine who will act as a mentor to you, _if_ you manage to impress him.” Cora continued smoothly, and Regina felt her throat go dry. A mentor? For what? With the great variety of ‘lessons’ she had been getting from her mother, adding a third party to the mix worried her. The fact that she was no longer naïve enough to keep from worrying was both strengthening and saddening. Whatever the case, she knew she would have to tread lightly.

“Quite alright, mother. May I inquire after the identity of my guest? And the nature of his mentorship?” She asked formally, and Cora smirked. 

“You will meet him soon enough. His name is Rumplestiltskin, and he is by far the most interesting man you will ever meet.” Cora complimented, and knowing full well her mother did not give compliments lightly, Regina found herself intrigued despite the sliver of fear that shot through her system.

Cora helped her dress for the occasion, trailing cool fingers down her spine before lacing up one of the dresses that made Regina look the youngest and most innocent. Obviously, it weren’t her skills that were going to convince Rumplestiltskin to train her; like with Leopold, Regina’s purity was going to be her main draw. Unlike with Leopold, however, Regina now looked in the mirror and wondered how much purity remained in her… especially when her mother pressed close against her and she saw her own eyes flutter shut as her repressed needs surfaced once more. Before she could indulge in the moment—revel in the touches she had missed so very much—Cora stepped away.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight, Regina.” Cora warned her, and she nodded quickly before vocalizing that she would, indeed, do everything to please her guest. The way Cora smirked made Regina aware of the double meaning of her words and she blushed furiously, aware of her mother’s expectations and her own impure thoughts. 

“I didn’t mean—I—” she stuttered, but Cora waved her into silence. She indicated Regina should turn around and slid her eyes over her daughter’s body.

“I know what you meant.” Cora said easily—dismissively—and nodded appreciatively over what she was seeing. Her eyes lost the intensity they’d had was they had scrutinized Regina’s outfit and over-all look, and she smiled. “I think you are ready. Go, wait in the dining hall. I will check in with the staff; Rumplesteltskin should be here any moment now. Go!”

Regina hurried to do what her mother asked, surrendering control of her own palace to her mother easily and without question. It seemed that her mother’s planning even included Snow White being on her best behaviour, because by the time Regina hurried into the hall, Snow was already seated in a pretty blue dress that sparkled in the candlelight. She smiled brightly, and Regina tempered herself, smiling in return although she couldn’t quite make her eyes reflect the same level of glee. A guest was coming for _her_ though, not Snow White, and that was enough excitement for her to fake everything else.

“Regina! What a day this is turning out to be! First your mother arrives and now we will be entertaining another guest? Papa leaving was sad, of course, but he shall be back soon. At least we still have each other, don’t we?” Snow babbled, and Regina fought the urge to yell at her that Rumplestiltskin and Cora were _her_ guests, not _theirs_. Instead, she hummed noncommittally, and sat herself down next to Snow White and waited, smiling nervously at her mother when she entered, now in an outfit that was not innocent at all but which accented every part of the body Regina had been quite literally dreaming about. It proved such a distraction that she missed Rumpletiltskin’s actual entrance.

He arrived by magic and sparkled with gold. As soon as he materialized in the dining room and she laid eyes on his grinning face and expressive hands, she knew two things for certain: Rumplestiltskin was a very powerful man, and he was quite mad. As always, her mother was right; he was surely the most interesting man she had ever met. He curtsied before her, and placed a lingering kiss on her hand once she got up and rounded the table to meet him, Cora’s and Snow’s eyes upon her. His dark eyes, too, took her in entirely. She blushed profusely, despite not knowing exactly why, and curtsied herself, smiling when he applauded her.

“Cora, my dear, you did not lie. You did not lie at all. She is a looker, oh yes! You are quite the looker indeed, dearie!” He exclaimed and twirled her around on the spot. It didn’t take Regina long to become smitten. There was something magnificent about him; his zest for life sparked hers, and his sense of humour had her laugh immodestly within minutes. The best part was that he ignored Snow White almost entirely, dismissing her as a child while he responded to her as an adult. She enjoyed the attention he lavished on her with scandalous stories, relished the way he skirted the line between treating her as a woman and a Queen, and was overcome by the intensity with which he spoke about everything—with grand gestures of his delicate hands, sparkles in his eyes and a body that bent with his every word. He was a graceful dancer of words, a true magician, and it was breath-taking to behold how he overtook the conversation, the room, and the occupants in it all without ever faltering or making his actions appear fake or doctored. Rumplestiltskin was exactly who he projected himself to be, and it was glorious to be in his presence. 

Snow disappeared from the room without Regina noticing, leaving Regina with Cora and Rumplestiltskin, as well as empty plates that were cleared off before the servants faded to the background, too. They were alone, and Regina had drank too much wine, accepting the glasses Rumplestiltskin poured her without question or limit. When she tried to remember how much she had drank, she could only fuzzily remembered four refills, but was almost sure there had been more than that. 

Cora had been suspiciously quiet all evening, eating her food without taking her eyes off of the two of them. At first, it had made Regina uncomfortable to be scrutinized so, but then Rumplestilskin’s long nails had walked up her leg over her dress, and a warmth not at all related to the alcohol that glowed hot in her belly had overtaken her, and she had stopped caring. Rumplestiltskin was interested almost solely in her, only tearing himself away from the conversation to include Cora—or Snow when she had still been there—to garner more laughs or affirmations. It was mostly because of this little fact that Regina found herself frozen to the spot barely an hour after dinner, standing in the doorway to the guest room, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene before her on the bed— _her_ bed—and its occupants.

Her mother had invited her, telling her to check on Snow White and make sure she was well taken care of before meeting her in her rooms for the lesson she had promised her daughter. Reluctantly, Regina had torn herself away from Rumplestiltskin, who had sat closer to her than any man should have sat to a married woman, and had done as instructed by her mother. She had made Snow White her evening tea, had settled her in bed and had listened to her recounting the night’s events. She had fought to keep her eyes connected to Snow White’s and never allow them to slip lower onto sheer white fabric, and because her mind was firmly with her enigmatic guest, she had mostly succeeded—a fact she was prouder of than she perhaps should have been.

By the time she had knocked on her mother’s door, she had found herself to be nervous—nervous about what was in store for her now, although the alcohol in her system left her buzzing as well. Rumplestiltskin was a powerful enchanter, and Cora had promised her magic lessons; Regina had assumed that was what was happening now. When her mother had not answered her call, she had knocked again, and this time, a throaty ‘yes!’ had invited Regina in. She had opened the door and hd slipped inside, but had then found the air pulled from her lungs as she was confronted by a scene she had not even pictured in her mind, let alone expected to happen upon now: her mother, naked, on her knees on the bed, an equally naked Rumplestiltskin behind her, one of her mother’s hands in his tangled hair as he nuzzled her neck. Their hips moved in sync with each other, and the stench of sweat and sex hung heavily in the air. Backlit by moonlight, she could see every thrust of hips that slammed into the cheeks of her mother’s ass, and watched once-firm breasts bounce freely upon impact, accompanied by a gasp or moan as Rumplestiltskin worked her mother onto greater pleasure with every stroke of his cock inside of her.

“Shut the door, child.” Cora chastised without looking at her, nor slowing her movements, and Regina did what she was asked out of sheer force of habit. Her heart was pounding in her chest in a tantalizing yet nauseating mixture of lust, desire, and intense jealousy that fuelled her anger. She wished she knew who she was mad at, however—her mother or Rumplestiltskin. She felt betrayed by both of them; Rumplestiltskin for leading her on all night and then succumbing to her mother’s wishes in the few minutes she had been out of his sight, and her mother for taking what was hers—for corrupting yet another thing Regina had felt passionate about. Even Regina could see though, that they had done this before, that they knew the other’s body and desires; Rumplestiltskin palmed her mother’s breasts roughly and Cora let herself fall forward, onto her hands as he slid his hands down her sides and to her hips, using them as an anchor point so he could thrust forward harder, causing Cora—whose hair was loose and wild and beautiful—to throw her head back and utter a delicious moan that entered Regina through every pore and settled hotly inside the pit of her stomach.

They were beautiful together, wild and rough in a way that she never imagined herself to be when with Leopold. Her mother’s body rolled like a wave every time Rumplestiltskin surged forwards, her body wracked with obvious pleasure. Regina watched her, studied her, observed the slap of thighs on ass cheeks, of his cock inside her cunt, and watched the pleasure work through her mother’s aged body—down the curving of her back as she grinded backwards with every stroke, as her breasts bounced and sagged, and her face contorted with pleasure Regina had only known twice, and even then she wasn’t sure if she had known _this_.

At that point, she realized that above all, she didn’t know who she wanted to _be_ more; Cora or Rumplestiltskin. 

“Mother…” She started, but was shushed right away. Instead, she stood, watching transfixed as Rumplestiltskin’s thrusts intensified and his hand slipped between Cora’s legs from her belly downwards, obviously manipulating her in such a way that it was necessary for his other arm to come up over her belly to hold her up as her head fell back down, draping her matted hair over the crumpled bed sheet she was griping tightly with both fists. She watched as her mother had watched her long weeks ago, watching the mechanics of fucking and wondering if her mother had been this affected when she had stood in the shadows. Like her eyes had done weeks ago, Cora’s now sought out hers and even as her face contorted again and again, she kept her eyes locked with her shell-shocked daughter. 

Regina was lost.

Was it progress that she didn’t even question _why_ she felt herself getting wet? Did not question why her entire sex throbbed with need by the time Rumplestiltskin grunted and arched, and Cora’s quiet moans had turned to much louder gasps of pleasure until she froze, head in her neck and a scream dying on her lips. Regina watched her mother shiver and shudder as she pressed back forcefully into Rumplestiltskin who—unlike Leopold—knew how to take the woman he was pleasing with him over the cusp of orgasm without ample preparation on the woman’s part. She watched as Rumplestiltskin clawed at her mother’s sides and jerked shakily, then sagged back onto the heels of his own feet, sitting up with a high-pitched hum and pulling Cora with him a moment until she slid herself off of his softening cock with a pleasurable sigh. 

Regina watched as Cora settled herself against the headboard, reaching out for a cloth obviously set aside for the purpose and pressing it between her own legs as she trembled. Cora looked so young, then, rejuvenated by the activity, and her eyes had locked firmly with Rumplestiltskin’s, who had slid his hands to his own thighs and whose chest was rising and falling rapidly with exertion, a gleeful smirk on his features. Regina felt like an ancient tree, rooted in place, while her insides burned and tumbled. Somewhere along the last few minutes—which she simultaneously wished could be erased from her mind and extended to last forever—she had begun squeezing her thighs together under her dress in the hope of alleviating some of her need, but it hadn’t helped. 

“Still as limber as always, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin complimented, and Cora smirked, running a hand seductively over her slightly protruding belly and up to the breasts Regina had been trying to picture for weeks now—picture and touch and suckle, and lavish kisses upon as she sated the need to taste and explore. 

“I make the effort for very special _men_.” Cora answered darkly, and Regina felt the comment connect like a slap in the face. This show was punishment, she realized. Punishment for her insolence the last time they had been together—that time when she had tried to overtake her mother, play her, until she would gave into her daughter’s dark desire. Cora was showing her that what was needed to please her was what lay limply on strong thighs now, something Regina did not—and would never—possess. She swallowed heavily, her frayed mind and nerves unable to keep up with everything that was happening. Between wanting to cry and run away, and rush to the bed to beg for forgiveness and love, Regina found herself rooted to the spot without hope of moving.

Because of her inner turmoil, Regina missed the knowing glance exchanged between teacher and former student as her face fell and realization dawned on her. She only became aware of her mother’s intensions when her name was called, rolling sweetly off of flushed lips. Regina’s head shot up immediately, and when Cora brought up her hand and curved her finger to indicate Regina should come closer, she did so with extreme urgency, eternally grateful the choice to move in either direction had been taken away from her. 

“Stop.” Cora said dismissively once she reached the bed and set her hands upon it to climb on. Regina did, faltering as her body trembled in fear, regret, and most of all the all-consuming desire that still threatened her sanity. She wished she had drank less. A moment passed in which Rumplestiltskin stretched and smiled at Cora, who nodded her approval. 

“I hear you are a very special girl, Regina.” Rumplestiltskin complimented, sliding off of the bed to meet her while Cora silently looked on. Regina’s heart pounded in her throat as he pressed into her space, circling her a moment until his hands landed on her hips and lingered there. She sank into his lean body a little, aware of every part of him as it brushed into her—his strong thighs and soft manhood against her ass, his smooth chest against her shoulders, and his arms wrapping around hers as he pulled her into a lover’s embrace, sliding his arms across the expanse of her abdomen to pull her closer. Instinctively, she brought her hands up and clasped them around the outside of his forearms, leaning her head back onto his shoulder. Without his boots, and her still in her heels, he was shorter than her but Rumplestiltskin still overtook her completely.

His scaly skin did not deter her; he looked like she felt on the inside, ugly and cracked, but the sheen to his skin was alluring, and his touch electrifying. She should be hesitant of him—weary—for one, he was a man, touching the possession of another, and beyond that, he was an acquaintance of her mothers who was well aware of and in tune with Cora’s dark desires. Yet, especially the latter was an important part of the reason why she surrendered to him so _easily_. He was radiant in the darkness, shining in the shadows; he brought with him acceptance of the fantasies that had sustained her in the time her mother was away, and if what she had just seen was any indication, he brought with him _pleasure_ , true pleasure she had been missing so. Regina had found a way for Leopold to make her come, to force pleasure from her body, but it was a lengthy affair filled with bloodlust, and it did not take away the need inside of her, nor fill the void left by her mother’s touch. 

Cora’s dark eyes were observing her every move, and she knew she should speak instead of linger, but it was so hard to even do that when all she wanted was to _feel_. It was wrong, and dark, and dirty—everything this encounter promised was wrong, and dark, and dirty—but she _wanted_ it. Like a child coveting the possessions of another, the touch of a loved one, Regina craved _this_ and she did not want to examine why, although she was not naïve enough anymore to think that she would walk out of this room tonight without examining and accepting every ounce of her own dark desires.

“Special?” She finally managed to vocalize, and Rumplestiltskin grinned, a high-pitched sound that spoke to his madness and flared straight down to her core. 

“Oh yes! Very special! Your mother told me all about the things you have done together, Regina. She told me you taste sweet, like honey fresh from the comb. Did you know that she promised me a taste of you in return for lessons in… magic?” He asked, pausing for dramatic effect as he extracted a hand from her belly and made a rose appear in a huff of purple smoke that curled deliciously around his fingers before dissipating. Regina found her hand trembling when she accepted the perfect flower and brought it to her nose to sniff. 

“No.” she confessed softly as her eyes slid to Cora, who was still naked, still reclining, and who Regina still ached to touch beyond anything. “She did not.”

His lips brushed the shell of her ear when he spoke next, and she gasped as a shiver tore through her body. Reflexively, she dropped the flower.

“Would you like me to…?” He asked her gleefully, taking her now empty hand and guiding it down her own body until it rested over her core on top of the fabric of the dress she wished was off. It was confining her terribly and was keeping her from something she wanted—

“Very much so.” She confessed breathlessly, shivering when his fingers pressed between hers and scratched her skin through the shiny and smooth fabric still covering her. She fought to stay still, to not show too much of her desire, but her mother was looking at her as if she was about to devour her whole, and the high pitched chuckle that fell from Rumplestiltskin as he jumped lightly against her—a dancer, she thought, a dancer—made her feel more desired than she had felt in her entire life. Her spoiled body was exciting enough for both of them to want and she wanted to give them both whatever they desired of her.

“Then let’s not waste time, my child. Let us not waste any time at all!” He exclaimed excitedly and stepped back. Before she could turn around to observe him, her clothes disappeared off of her body leaving her bare and shivering in the sudden chill, stumbling as her heels disappeared. When she completed her turn, she found Rumplestiltskin grinning, jumping on crooked legs as he threw his hands up, looking like a magician searching for applause for his magic trick. She smiled as he bowed for her, and her heart fluttered dangerously in the way that only Daniel and her mother had inspired in her. 

“Now then, how about a kiss for the effort, hum?” He coaxed, tapping his lips and she nodded, suddenly a little shy, although her entire body was buzzing. He beckoned her forward with the finger previously on his lips—much like Cora had—and she came to him equally willingly, pressing her naked form against his with a moan that left her lips even before his descended upon them. Her arms came up to engulf his waist as he cupped her cheeks, and she melted into the soft press upon her lips, smiling over the fact that he was now a little taller than her. 

As with her mother that first time, Rumplestiltskin overtook her mouth, and she surrendered to him willingly. She parted her lips and darted out her tongue, much less afraid of his reaction than she had been of her mother’s. Rumplestiltskin seemed a little bit like a child—young, like her, and while he obviously had the skill of a lover, he also seemed to want to _play_. She felt much more giddy now than she had ever felt with Cora, and jumped into the experience with the exuberance of youth. She wasn’t looking for love now, but pleasure—she wanted him to touch her, to make her feel good; to love her but in an entirely different way than she wanted from Cora. He was a present to her, a present from her mother, and a way for her to prove she had control of her sexuality like her mother was trying to teach her. 

She moaned into an open-mouthed kiss as she pressed herself closer to him willingly, marvelling at her own joy and excitement. She could feel his manhood against her lower belly, she could feel how similar to Leopold he felt against her, but she didn’t think of Leopold at all after the first few moments. How Rumplestiltskin made her feel was entirely different and much closer to what her mother made her feel—although his press seemed much less forbidden. 

She felt guilty a short moment that she was giving herself to another man; her mother had been one thing, but that had been a lesson of sorts. This was a lesson as well, but completely different all the same because she was longing to be taught what Rumplestiltskin was about to teach her, both sexually and magically. She was cheating on her husband—on her King—and she felt guilty that it made her feel so _good_. She would clear some red from the ledger, she promised. This evened out two nights with her husband, maybe three. 

With that promise, her guilt about her affair faded, but another type of guilt remained: she hadn’t had a choice with Leopold, and if she was honest, she didn’t really have a choice with her mother either… but now, she had a choice. Sort of. Her mother would surely punish her if she did not give Rumplestilskin what he desired of her, and she would not get the magic lessons she wanted so she could enact her revenge and restore Daniel to life, but in theory, she could say ‘no’. The fact that the thought hardly crossed her mind made her feel guilty towards Daniel, who should have been the first to whom she gave herself willingly. 

Rumplestiltskin bit her bottom lip lightly, and she sighed, sliding her hands up over his back as she flattened into him. Even if she managed to become powerful enough to bring Daniel back from the dead, she would not be able to do it without enacting her revenge first. She realized darkly that that meant that no one could know about these meetings—not the ones with her mother, not the ones with Rumplesteltskin—and that meant that before bringing Daniel back, she would have to either kill or otherwise make disappear both of her current partners. A chill ran down her spine at that, and for a moment she forgot that she was kissing someone—all she could think about as her entire body chilled was that she had just decided that she would kill not only Leopold and Snow White as soon as she could get away with it, but her mother and Rumplestiltskin as well. When had she become someone who entertained the thought of murder?

Her thoughts were interrupted by hands wrapping into her hair and drawing her head back as Rumplestiltskin broke the kiss, moving his mouth down to her jaw and then her throat. She arched her back so she could keep contact with him and tried to push her dark thoughts from her mind, instead curling her fingers so her nails pressed lightly into his skin as an encouragement—or maybe a trial run. Again, she forced the thoughts down as Rumplestiltskin chuckled darkly into her neck.

“She’s got claws, doesn’t she?” He questioned, and Regina spooked when her mother’s voice sounded almost against her other ear.

“She is growing them, yes.” Cora answered with a chuckle and familiar hands landed on her side, skyrocketing both her fear and her arousal. Could they read her mind? Did they know what she had been thinking? Planning? If they had, if they could, she was dead. She was trapped between them now, and there was no way to escape this room without their permission. Her panic burned in her throat even as Rumplestiltskin lightly bit down on the soft skin of her neck and she moaned without her consent, shivering as hot wetness pooled between her legs—a wetness that intensified as Cora’s bare body pressed into her back. She gasped, completely overloaded by the sensation of flesh on flesh—a sensation she had longed to feel for so very long—and turned her head and upper body instinctively, seeking out her mother’s indulging mouth with desperation, drowning her terror in all-consuming arousal. If she was going to die, she was going to die after squeezing everything out of this moment she could.

She didn’t die, though. Instead, Rumplestiltskin untangled his hands from her hair and took a hold of her jaw to force her head further to the side so he could scrape sharp teeth over the tendons in her neck as Cora’s tongue forced between her lips. She moaned and shivered, clawing at Rumplestiltskin’s back in earnest now as she marvelled at the press of soft breasts against her side, of a hardening cock against her thigh, and hands that traversed her body—hands she couldn’t identify after a few passes. She was glowing now, shivering, hot need settling hard and burning in her core as the adrenaline of getting away with her dark thoughts mingled with her arousal. She had somehow managed a victory over the both of them, and she felt more powerful than ever.

Regina had never felt better than she did right now as hands cupped her breasts, slipped between her legs, as her mouth was passed between two others and lips and teeth and tongues found purchase on her skin wherever they could. Regina refused to open her eyes; she liked the dark of her eyelids, it heightened every touch. Somehow she had managed to wrap an arm around each of her partners—she used the term carefully—but kept them still, afraid to break the spell by doing something wrong. She didn’t want to do anything wrong, what she wanted was _more_.

“Please.” She gasped, knowing it was the magic word with her mother, and two chuckles—one high, one low—met her ears. 

“So willing!” Rumplestiltskin marvelled, and she was quite sure it was him that tweaked her nipple between long fingernails. She hissed as her head fell back, leaning into the arm wrapped around her waist. 

“Please!” She repeated, and the hands and bodies pressed into her disappeared. She blinked her eyes open in confusion, finding both her mother and Rumplestiltskin retreating to the bed. Suddenly, she was blinking back tears, unable to keep up with the roller-coaster of her feelings. She needed so much, she wanted so much, and to have the promise of the fulfilment of her desires ripped away from her so suddenly left her reeling. She was so drunk—on alcohol and love, and all-consuming desire. Once more she stood frozen to the spot, panting and eyes hooded, aware of the straining of her nipples, the throbbing between her legs. She watched as Rumplestiltskin sat on the edge of the bed while her mother scooted up on it elegantly, reclaiming her place against the headboard.

“Regina, come here.” Her mother said lightly, and this time, Regina showed more restraint, moving to stand near the edge of the bed as she awaited further instructions.

“Tell me, darling, do you trust me?” Cora asked sweetly, and Regina took a moment to steady herself and sort through her thoughts and emotions. She trusted that her mother had her best interests at heart, yes; especially the last few weeks, her mother had helped her grow, become stronger, become a woman…

“Yes, mother. I trust you.” She answered truthfully, although she knew her fear for her mother diminished her trust in her a little. Cora hummed with a smirk as she patted the bed next to her and Regina climbed on, nestling into the shape of her mother’s form as she was allowed to slide her leg over her mother’s and wrap an arm around her waist. Cora’s hand slipped around her head, holding her close as Regina rested her head on her shoulder. Regina found herself afraid to breath, let alone move. She knew touching her mother—despite how much she really wanted to—was something she was not allowed to do; Cora’s coupling with Rumplestiltskin had made that abundantly clear. At the same time, though, she was drowning in the experience, in having Cora’s breasts so close to her, like Tantalus and the water, she wished to lower her mouth onto the hard peaks so much it became a physical ache.

She was focussed so completely on her mother’s warmth, her hand in her hair, her skin under the fingers she couldn’t quite keep still despite _really_ trying to, that she startled when she felt a wet tongue snake across the side of her foot. She tried to raise her head but Cora prevented her from moving, shushing her in the way she used to do in comfort when Regina had gotten hurt as a child—only now Regina felt like Cora actually wanted to be here, unlike when she had been a child and she was passed off to her father at the earliest opportunity. 

“It’s alright, Regina. Just relax and let Rumple explore. Do you remember what I taught you before? About enjoying your sexuality?” Cora soothed, and Regina laid her head back down, heart pounding as a hand slid up her leg and then over her thigh while a warm mouth still explored her foot, eliciting a shiver. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t have just fallen onto the bed together, but obviously there was a dynamic at play that was beyond her intellect or comprehension and she decided to just go with it, because she had her mother close, and hands on her body that were trailing delicious heat through her. 

“I do.” She answered, slightly breathless, and tilted her head up a little so she could look upon her mother better. Cora allowed her the leeway.

“Good.” Cora mused darkly and tilted her head back further with strong fingers in her hair, pressing their lips together roughly and instantly rekindling the need that had settled inside Regina during the short intermezzo. She launched into the kiss, feeling sloppy and young as she met perfectly controlled lips with moans and wetness. Her mother indulged her behaviour and when Regina gasped as Rumplestiltskin roughly palmed the globe of her ass, Cora forced her tongue between parted lips and teeth and Regina met it instinctually, relaxing her body as Rumplestiltskin massaged her ass and kissed up her calve. 

Regina’s hand fluttered up, hovering over her mother’s jaw, not sure if she was even allowed that gentle touch. She wanted it so badly, however, to touch her mother’s face, her hair, to sink into her as the enigmatic male traversed the length of her leg and licked the underside of the cheek of her ass. Her body once more fell into synch with the two people caressing her; Cora’s hand in her hair and the other slipping over her arm to trail down to her hovering hand and connect it with the skin of her jaw and neck, and Rumplestiltskin, whose hand still massaged her, spreading her open with every pass and making her shiver. She wished she could make this moment last forever—she had rarely felt so good, so desired, as she did now. Rumplestiltskin’s body settled against her legs and pressed her harder into the side of her mother’s body, flattening her out.

Cora sucked on her tongue and Regina moaned, overloaded with sensation to such a degree that it took her a moment to realize that Rumplestiltskin’s tongue had traversed up and between the cheeks of her ass. She tensed, but Cora’s arm flexed to keep her trapped. Panicking a little, Regina felt her heart rate spike as her eyes flew open, trying to break the kiss but unable to pull further back than Cora’s lips upon hers, which continued to slide over hers until Regina sank into them again. 

Another swipe of a strong tongue and she needed another set of reassuring kisses, Cora’s hand traveling back up over her arm to cup her cheek and hold her close. It was almost loving—almost—if Regina had not felt so dirty. It was a different kind of dirty than before, a more primal sense of shame of her body, of the parts of her now tasted while no one should ever even touch. She swallowed when her mother’s voice resounded inside her skull, her lessons on repeat: _enjoy your sexuality… it’s supposed to feel good… make them pay_. Throwing caution to the wind, she slid her hand up into tangled hair and crushed her mouth against Cora’s, making _her_ gasp by the sudden reversal in Regina’s behaviour. Regina fed off of the reaction, sliding her leg further over her mother’s legs to give Rumplestiltskin better access to the part of her he was either promised or instructed to defile. 

She _did_ trust her mother, and while she had her extreme reservations about this turn of events, everything her mother had done to her had led to pleasure… and it had made her stronger in the end.

Rumplestiltskin’s arm reached up to tangle in her hair and tap Cora’s arm, who released her daughter’s head and pulled back, leaving Regina gasping as she pulled up her head and met the man’s eyes as he kissed the globe of her ass and then withdrew his hand so he could pull himself up. She twisted away from her mother’s body so she could meet him in what she knew was coming. Swallowing down a twinge of disgust, she met his mouth in a fiery kiss that had her moan despite knowing where his tongue had just been. She was damned already, deprived and desperate, so why should she fight the darkness now? Her mother obviously wanted her to overcome her boundaries—well, she would. She would cross every line if it meant that one day she could make them all pay. 

“You are a feisty little plaything.” Rumplestiltskin whispered giddily against her lips as they broke away, leaving Regina breathless and flushed, her arm wrapped around his head instead of Cora’s as she tried to pull him back down onto her lips. She hadn’t tasted a thing, at least nothing that hadn’t already been there before. She bit her lip, wanting to speak but not quite knowing what was desired of her. Obviously, her innocence was what had lured Rumplestiltskin in, but she was quite sure he was well aware that she was not innocent at all. Her mother’s nails were playing with the skin of her shoulder, trailing down to her chest, and Regina shivered, encouraged by the silent acceptance she found in her mother’s actions.

“I can be whatever you want me to be, Rumplestiltskin.” She whispered onto his lips, lowering her voice like Cora did when she meant to seduce and convince. Rumplestiltskin shivered theatrically and trailed his nails over her thigh, causing her to press into him, feeling his semi-erect manhood press up against her. Again, she pressed into him, inviting him to do what she already knew he would do before this was over: penetrate her from behind.

“So willing…” He mumbled, and kissed her lips lightly before pulling back. Regina dropped her hand as she watched him slide lower, trailing lips and tongue and teeth over her skin as she twisted her body a little more so she could watch as he once more arrived at her behind and bit the skin he found there. She smiled and bit her lip wantonly, sliding her leg back over Cora’s as she pressed firmer into her. She turned away to look at her mother as Rumplestiltskin once more spread the cheeks of her ass with a hand, his hair tickling her as he suckled on the curved skin of her cheek and released it with a loud pop. Cora was watching her, searching her face and bringing a hand up to trail fingers over her cheek.

“You learn fast, don’t you dear?” She mused, and Regina smiled, blushing over the words.

“I try to make you proud, mother. I always try to make you proud.” She answered, and Cora smiled, patting her cheek lightly. 

“You will be a very good Queen one day, Regina. You will be strong, and beautiful, and you will rule over your subjects with an iron fist. You will bring wealth and prosperity to this land, Regina, and you will be glorious!” Cora predicted, and Regina smiled widely, dipping her head only a moment before she remembered herself and lifted it again, knowing full well to take a compliment like that seriously and with pride—and not with modesty. Modesty… well, she had not much to be modest about now as a strong tongue circled her tight rim and strong fingers pulled apart the cheeks of her ass wider. Modesty… no, that was long dead and buried. Instead, she moaned and cupped her mother’s cheek again as she fell into her, kissing her hard and deeply, drowning in sensation as Rumplestiltskin pressed his tongue against her rhythmically and she wished he would fill her with more than that. Her sex was throbbing, her heart was pounding, and the alcohol dulled her brain. She just wanted to feel—feel _him_ , feel her mother—whoever would make her howl.

Despite wanting it, she still gasped and broke her delicious kiss with her mother as Rumplestiltskin pulled apart her cheeks and scratched at her anus with a sharp nail, causing her to shudder and her mother to smile. 

“Relax, my child,” Cora instructed, and she did, settling herself on Cora’s shoulder and kissing the skin she found there as a sure finger pressed between the cheeks of her ass, stretching her and filling her far more carefully than she had expected. Her mother’s leg between hers flexed, and Regina hissed by the indirect but very desirable stimulation. Burying her face in Cora’s neck as she held onto the other side of it with a shaking hand, she found herself relishing this defilement.

“More, please,” She whispered, and she felt more than heard Cora’s chuckle. 

“You will have it all, Regina.” Her mother promised, and Regina deliriously suckled the skin of her mother’s neck, not even thinking of the consequences as Rumplestiltskin started moving his finger back and forth, pressing deeper inside of her with every slow and slightly twisting thrust. It felt so different than when she entered herself or was entered through her vagina; the stimulation was less direct, but it left her reeling, regardless. The thrill of the forbidden coupled by her body’s instinctive resistance was such an aphrodisiac, and when Cora moaned softly as Regina’s tongue slid hotly across her neck, Regina lost all composure.

Pressing her ass back into Rumplestiltskin finger, she pulled her mother closer for another searing kiss as she rolled her hips into her Cora’s leg, making herself moan. She repeated the movement and Rumplestiltskin fell in tune with her easily, letting her press back into his thrusting digit while he remained stationary, flexing just slightly inside of her and making her jump and groan with desire. She had never felt anything like this, and she vowed that Leopold would never get to do this, that this was a privilege she preserved for her new mentor—because she saw no reason why she would not pass the test now; she had already come this far and instead of wishing to be gone from this bed, she wished to experience so much more in it. 

Rumplestiltskin took his time with her, stretching her with gentle thrusts, caresses, and a light coating of neutral smelling oil from a flask Cora handed him upon request. She felt slippery and hot, completely relaxed in her arousal and the arms of two adults hell-bent on making her feel good. She didn’t know what the point of this was, why they sought to bring her this… gift—it felt like a gift—but she was not about to reject it. Her shame had melted away in light of the acceptance she had found in her mother’s gentle caresses, long kisses, and soft moans, and with Rumplestiltskin’s sure fingers and worshipping mouth. When the impish man sat up on the bed, withdrawing from her and leaving her pulsing, she knew that he would soon escalate his need, and she welcomed it. 

“Up, up, dearie!” He cooed, and Regina broke away from the mother she had become entwined with completely, untangling fingers from soft hair that never failed to arouse and bring her joy. She sat up and waited for instructions, watching as her mother sat up as well, reclining leisurely against the headboard after fixing her hair and exchanging a pointed look with the male at the foot of the bed. Regina felt caught between them a moment, but when her eyes fixed on Rumplestiltskin, she could only remember how careful he had been with her and she lost her fear.

“Tell me what I may do for you…” She whispered breathlessly, and Rumplestiltskin smiled a smile that bared his teeth even as his hand fluttered to indicate his hard manhood. She didn’t need to be told what he wanted; Leopold requested it of her on occasion, and while it sickened her to accept leopold’s cock into her mouth, she relished the experience now. Like all of him, his penis was golden and cracked, but it didn’t feel rough against her lips as she slid them tentatively over the head of his manhood after crawling slowly towards him and reaching out. Again, she simply brushed her lips over the head and then darted out with the tip of her tongue experimentally, actually savouring the experience instead of rushing through it. Rumplestiltskin shivered theatrically, raising both hands as he eyed not her but her mother. She didn’t mind, focussing fully on the task at hand.

When she opened her mouth to wrap her lips around Rumplestiltskin’s hard member, his hands landed in her hair and a shiver of such obvious pleasure shot through the male that Regina couldn’t help but feel proud. _She_ had done that to him, _she_ was giving _him_ pleasure. An act her mother still denied her, Rumplestiltskin welcomed, and she launched into the experience excitedly, quite sure she was not perfectly coordinated or even very good at the activity, but Rumplestiltskin guided her head towards the motions he desired, she massaged his balls lightly at his instruction, and before long, he was leaning back on a single arm, the other loosely on her head as encouragement as she bobbed up and down, taking him deeper and deeper into her throat as his hips jerked up into her. She didn’t mind that he sometimes triggered her gag reflex; she felt good doing this, she felt powerful, and when her mother’s fingers trailed up the back of her legs, she parted them in a hurry, letting Rumplestiltskin slip from her mouth a moment as Cora entered her cunt with a fluid motion of her wrist, filling her with two fingers that her pulsing sex wrapped around and urged further inside. 

With a grunt, she let her head fall down on Rumplestiltskin’s thigh a moment as her breathing sped up, completely out of control now she was suddenly—finally—being fucked, although she knew it was just temporary; soon, Rumplestiltskin would fill her completely, and she doubted it would be where her mother’s fingers probed.

“Return to your task, Regina, or I will stop.” Cora warned not unkind, and Regina quickly raised her head again, taking a firm hold on Rumplestiltskin’s cock as she pumped him a few moments with her hand before swallowing him again. She could feel him watching her, could feel Cora’s eyes on her as well, and all she wanted was to be fucked by one of them—both of them—to not be teased like this, or delayed, but to be truly _taken_.

Moans fell from her as her body burned, her thighs slick with desire and oil, her mother’s fingers thrusting slowly but deeply, the motions of her hand and mouth becoming erratic as a result but it was enough; Rumplestiltskin pulled her off of him by the hair—gently, though urgently—and pulled her up for a deep kiss as she shared the salt that had spilled from him as she had worked him. She kissed him hard, passionate, desperate, forgetting herself now she knew she would get her wish. 

Even Cora’s fingers pulling from her did not deter her; she used the opportunity to crawl into Rumplestiltskin arms, flatten against him, and shivering as his solid hardness pressed against the expanse of her abdomen. She wanted him so much in that moment, wanted the complete darkness he promised her, and the revenge against Leopold that letting him fuck her would grant her. She needed it; she needed it so badly she could cry, and as his hand once more traversed her back and a strong finger once more entered her ass, she only moaned and wrapped her hands into his greasy hair, urging him to kiss her harder, give her more—trying to convey her need. 

Rumplestiltskin, too, was done with playing, with prepping, and as he withdrew from her, he took a firm hold on her upper arms before pulling her off of him, urging her to turn around—something she rushed to do. She fell into his lap with her back to his chest, feeling his hardness against the lips of her sex, and she licked her lips as her already hooded eyes fluttered shut. She let her head fall abck onto his shoulder as he pulled her harder against him by the arms.

“Ask your mother for permission.” He whispered into her ear, loud enough for Cora to hear, and Regina blinked open her eyes, finding Cora once more against the headboard, perfectly composed with her legs crossed at the ankles, observing her trembling daughter and her sometimes-lover. For all her composure, though, Cora was not unaffected—her breathing was shallow, her eyes dark and hooded, and she licked dry lips. Cora was aroused, and just that was enough to add fuel to the fires already raging inside of Regina. “Ask her for what you want me to do to you.”

“Mother, please. May I have your permission to be entered by Rumplestiltskin?” She asked breathlessly, not letting a second pass. Cora, however, drew out the moment, sliding her eyes from her to Rumplestiltskin and back.

“Is that what you want, my child? His manhood inside of you? Thrusting…?” Cora asked darkly, and despite the tone that was usually a warning, Regina did not halt herself to think.

“Yes, mother. That is what I want!” She quickly conceded, trying to keep still and not squirm in the man’s deceivingly strong grip so she could feel more pressure against her aching core. 

“And where do you want it, Regina?” Her mother asked, hands loosely in her lap, a smirk on her face—and if she had thought Regina was not yet broken enough to beg for what had always been the obvious plan, she would be sorely disappointed, Regina decided.

“My behind.” She said, her voice as strong as she thought her mother would like it to be; the voice of a woman in control of her body and sexuality, who was enjoying what was being done to her, and who wanted more. “I want Rumplestiltskin to fill my ass.”

“Then you shall have it. Rumple, be a dear and fuck my daughter.” Cora said dismissively, and there was beautiful madness in Rumplestiltskin’s voice as he answered, close to Regina’s ear.

“Gladly…” He answered, and released her arms. In a move copied from her mother, she slid forward, landing on her hands and knees, watching her mother watch Rumplestiltskin as he sat up, finding the vial with oil and popping the top off of it. It was cold and wet and slippery as he drizzled it on her ass, and she shivered as it seeped between her cheeks. He lathered his hands and used them to grease his cock, still wet with saliva as he sat up behind her with a gleeful squeal that had Regina smile. She loved his exuberance, his enthusiasm in the face of filling her. 

As his hands rubbed her ass, his fingers pressing into her to coat her with the oily lubricant, she braced for what was to come, remembering to relax her bum, and she took a deep breath as she felt pressure against the rim of her ass too filling to be fingers. One of his hands found her hip and he pulled at it, urging her to move back into him. His concern for her was touching and made her feel so very loved. She sighed pleasurably as she indeed pushed back.

“This might hurt a little, dearie, try pushing like you are relieving yourself, it will make it… easier.” He advised excited as ever, and she did push as she moved back onto him, groaning as pain—indeed—flared through her. She moved slowly, carefully, pausing for quiet moments that both her mother and Rumplestiltskin miraculously allowed her. Obviously hurting her was not the end goal of this encounter. Strengthened by that, she vowed to prove to them both that she could do this, that she was an adult woman who did not shy the pleasures of the bedroom. She moved back and tried to relax, pushing and relaxing in intervals as she impaled herself slowly. It took long minutes but once she could rest a moment on Rumplestiltskin thighs—his manhood swallowed by her body and perspiration sliding down between her breasts—the kiss that he pulled her up to give her made it all worth it. She had expected it to be possessive—rough—but it was tender and loving, and it made her heart hammer in her chest as her happiness soared. She had done it, she had done what he had desired of her—and now he would reward her.

“Fuck me…” She whispered into his mouth, and she could feel him smile.

“Oh, I will, dearie.” He vowed, and she found herself shoved down into the bedding, face down, ass up, as he moved with her and sat up on his knees, taking over the motions between them. He dripped more oil onto the juncture between them and corked the bottle before he started to move and despite the pain that seared through her ass, extending up into her belly and down into her legs, she clawed at the sheets in pleasure—a pleasure that intensified as her body adjusted and his motions became more fluent and less careful. She was ready, she knew; she could sense it in the way his hands were relaxed on her hips, in the way he took his time moving almost entirely out of her before thrusting back in. She groaned, moaned, yelled encouragements that were mostly muffled by the bedding. Even without all of that, she doubted he would give up his claim to her now. He was as lost as she was, becoming rougher and faster by the thrust, and while the pain always lingered, the pleasure was worth it—worth it and indescribable.

It was so different from being penetrated vaginally, it was less intense and overwhelming at the same time, the darkness of the taboo lending potency to the act that made it worth whatever pain it required. Regina realized she was crying, and quickly reassured Rumplestiltskin, telling him not to stop, to give her more. She promised him she could take it, and he cackled lustfully as he forced his hips harder into her, one hand between her shoulder blades, the other on her hips. 

Regina was in heaven—painful, dirty, perfect heaven. His hips slammed into her ass roughly with every thrust and while her body tried to get away from the force of the impact, she always pushed back into him once he relented. She lured him into her, promising him she wanted this with every motion of her body, with every outcry, with every flexing of her hands as she clawed at the bedding, and every bite into the same sheets as his roughness drove her higher. 

“Sit up.” Cora’s voice cut through her pleasure, and for a moment she had actually forgotten her mother occupied the bed as well. Knowing that was a very dangerous thing to do, she hurried to comply. Rumplestiltskin’s hand wrapped around her throat, holding her up by it as he adjusted his motions, sinking down to his heels before thrusting back up while Regina sat up on her knees, hands on her mother’s shoulders as Cora pressed up against her and claimed her mouth. She moaned deeply as Cora’s tongue met hers and Regina sucked on it desperately, wanting the punishment she knew would come. Cora bit her lip roughly, and Regina shuddered, unable to control her body any longer—especially as Cora’s hand slid between her legs and she entered her with two fingers, instantly skyrocketing her aroual to a level Regina had not imagined was possible to attain.

Regina was lost, soaring on waves of pleasure and pain, reacting to every touch, every thrust, every stimulation, instinctively and positively. More, she wanted more—always more—even as her body reached the maximum of what it could take. All her senses were fried, her brain completely turned off; she _became_ desire, dark and twisted, and beautiful. She felt so beautiful, and that only intensified when Rumplestiltskin’s hand flexed around her throat, cutting off her already erratic air supply. She panicked only a split second, then she surrendered to this as well, leaning back as her body strained, burning her to crisps from the inside out. Rumplestiltskin shuddered against her, going harder, faster, more irregular, and Cora matched his thrusts inside of her, stimulating her clit with the rough touch of her thumb.

Regina’s orgasm rushed over her completely unexpectedly, shattering whatever was left of her sanity as she strained, writing like an animal as specs of white blazed and exploded behind her eyelids, her body bearing down on the sources of her pleasure as she wrapped her hands into Cora’s hair as her mother’s mouth sucked Regina’s nipple roughly, teeth sinking into the sensitive nub. She barely had time to recover before Rumplestiltskin—who had slowed down just a little through her orgasm—resumed his thrusts and rushed her into a second one which left her shivering and trembling as she sagged into her mother’s body. Rumplestiltskin jerked behind her with a deep groan as he filled her ass with his come and she welcomed it—every drop of it—moving back into him as he continued to thrust in his pleasure-filled madness. He only slowed once his cock lost hardness, and Cora hummed into Regina’s wet hair as she dropped a kiss on top of her head, slowing her fingers finally after Regina gasped and shuddered through a third orgasm that left her completely spent.

Rumplestiltskin left her body first, and she hardly felt any resistance from her body as he did. She shuddered at the loss, marvelling at the pulsing she felt, and groaned when Cora’s fingers slipped out of her, too. She was barely aware of Rumplestiltskin sagging to the bed as Cora lowered her down onto the ruined sheets that stained with the fluids dripping from her—a mixture of oil, sweat, semen and her own arousal—and into her arms. Regina shivered and cried, completely overwhelmed by what she had just experienced, and for once, Cora comforted her, running a hand over her hair, dropping kisses on her forehead, covering her haphazardly with a corner of the sheets, and cradling her close as if she was still a small child. Regina felt like one, too, and to be cradled by the woman she loved beyond anyone else in the world was the perfect end to this perfect encounter. 

“Mother…?” She whispered, and Cora hummed. Regina took a deep breath as her eyelids drooped, and licked her lips before asking the only question burning in her mind after what had just transpired. “Did I make you proud?” 

“Very proud, Regina. Very proud.” Cora promised her, and with that, Regina allowed herself to smile before she lost her hold on her consciousness and sank into oblivion.

Regina awoke in her own bed, alone, and very sore. Everything hurt, but as memories flooded her mind, Regina smiled anyway. The pain was worth it—the soreness was a price she was very willing to pay if it meant experiencing this level of pleasure. She was naked, and dirty, and dying for a long soak to ease her aching muscles. With difficulty, she managed to get up, standing on shaky legs as every muscle in her body resisted the strain. Her behind felt like it was on fire, but every time she wanted to complain about it, she remembered her mother’s loving arms, her own pleasure, and Rumplestiltskin’s willingness to give her everything she desired. Regina was floating, and the memories alone were worth every moment of quiet agony as she walked the short distance to the chord that would summon a servant to her chambers. By the time she made it back to bed, she was sweating, but her smile wouldn’t leave her features for a second. Her smile widened when she found Rumplestiltskin's rose on her nightstand, blossoming beautifully in a narrow vase.

While she waited for the maid to arrive, she wondered where her mother was, and Rumplestiltskin. Thoughts of the latter caused a flutter in her stomach that went far beyond mere sexual attraction. She had relished him, and she longed for his acceptance—his love. She wondered if she would ever see him again, and rejoiced when he entered her room after a rapid set of knocks while she was combing out her hair after a long, relaxing, soak in the tub. Her hair was still wet and it was entirely improper for him to be in her rooms, but her heart leapt, regardless. She jumped up, wincing when she remembered the soreness that still plagued her, and she could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he was well aware of her discomfort.

“Rumplestiltskin!” She breathed, and he bowed to her, taking her hand and kissing it.

“How are you feeling, dearie?” He asked, and she smirked, blushing a little, knowing full well his question was rhetorical. Knowingly, he twirled her around by her hand, drawing it up above her head as she complied happily, falling into him when he pulled her flush against the body she remembered so very well. Her hand landed on his chest, over his heart, and she loved the way it beat against her palm.

“I have a challenge for you… an… opportunity, if you will.” He whispered in her ear, and she shivered. Looking up into his beautiful eyes, she nodded, heart speeding up at the prospect of pleasing her mentor. He waved his hand and a large, golden, mirror appeared in the corner of her room. It was a beautiful, full length, mirror, and Regina wondered instantly what Rumplestiltskin desired of her that involved the use of it. The images her mind conjured were all explicit in nature, an she was well aware she would not say ‘no’ to any of it.

“Tell me.” She whispered, and Rumple grimaced happily, pulling her impossibly closer as the hand he had just used to conjure the mirror slipped around her waist. 

“Do you want to be my student, Regina?” He asked, and she nodded vehemently, earning her a smile that made her heart soar. “Splendid, but you will understand I cannot trust you on your word alone, do you not?”

“You can, I assure you, but if I must prove it to you somehow, then tell me what I must do.” She replied eagerly, not at all weary of what he would require of her. After last night, she trusted him implicitly, and she had no fear of him. All she wanted was to please him, and make him proud. She wanted to prove him she was worth his time, and she relished the chance to show him she had magic—something her mother was obviously sure of since she had invited Rumplestiltskin to audition her. Rumplestiltskin leaned close to her, his lips fluttering pleasantly against her ear as he spoke.

“I want you to use your magic to complete a task. One, small, task. When your mother comes to visit you, I want you to push her into the mirror and poof! She will be gone.” He whispered, and her blood ran cold in her veins as he eyes widened in shock.

“What? You want me to… why would I…?” She asked dumbfound, but then she faltered, seeing the huge opportunity in his proposal. Her mind flashed back to her darkest thoughts last night and although it made her heart clench painfully, she knew that this was perhaps the best chance she would ever have of getting rid of her mother—a woman far more powerful than she was. She had thought she would only get to erasing her mother from her life once Leopold and Snow White were gone, but if she did it now, she would prove her worth to Rumplestiltskin, get rid of her mother in one go, and—perhaps most importantly, her treacherous mind and heart supplied—she would have Rumplestiltskin all to herself. She wouldn’t have to share him with Cora, and just the fact that he wanted her to help him get rid of her mother was such a boost to her frail ego that there really was no way she would say ‘no’ to him. Cora would never accept her as a partner, but Rumplestiltskin, maybe, _would_.

Rumplestiltskin had watched the emotions dance across her features and smiled darkly now.

“I take that as a ‘yes’, dearie?” He asked softly, and she nodded, an ice cold darkness settling in her heart and gut. She let her hand slide up to caress his cheek, studying his alien features and drowning in his eyes.

“Yes.” She breathed, and Rumplestiltskin grinned merrily before claiming her lips in a fiery kiss that Regina sunk into desperately, surrendering herself to another person who would feed her madness and empower her onto even greater darkness. He would make her powerful and with him by her side to train her, she would become the Queen she needed to be to regain her freedom—and then, she would rid herself of him, too; this, she promised herself. Until then, she would keep a new ledger for him--for now it would be the only one not dripping red. 

Her heart ached already over letting go of her mother, but if anyone’s ledger deserved wiping clean in the most horrible of ways, it was her mother’s. the only thing Cora could give her—pleasure—the man who held her now could give her as well. Cora’s presence in her life had outlived its usefulness, and it was time to let her go—for now. When their paths would cross again—and she knew they would—she would be ready for her. She would be stronger, and Rumplestiltskin could make her stronger. 

“I’m ready.” She added hoarsely against his lips, and he squealed in excitement that slowly spread through her body as well.


End file.
